self at the table alongside a chair, she sat down in it. She was immediately overwhelmed by the jello.
"Oh Maud Ellen, what a beautiful BEAUTIFUL shade of green!"
Billie peered closer to it, enchanted. She smiled at it. She then poked the beautiful green mound gently, playfully, with a finger.
"I think" Maud Ellen announced heavily and pointedly, rising, "that we shall have early coffee."
Billie jerked herself up straight. Oh Lord, now Maud Ellen was angry. Of course she shouldn't have poked the jello. Her head felt so odd! Those drinks! She must just sit and eat and not say a word, just like the doctor. How beautiful the doctor! That creamy shallow little hollow at the base of that neck. If only the doctor might like her! The doctor hadn't looked-REALLY looked-at her yet.
Maud Ellen stonily served Billie coffee, black.
They ate in silence, Maud Ellen periodically rising to serve.
Billie found the long silence heavy, oppressive. She finished the meal and sat nervously fingering the big whalebone buttons on her blouse. How very hard whalebone was, so VERY hard, so UNGIVING! Whalebone-whalebone-that word there was a line-what was it "Only whalebone and brocade"-yesNot a softness anywhere about me.
Only whalebone and brocade.
Yes-Amy Lowell's "Patterns." How did it start? I walk down the garden paths.
And all the daffodils
Are blowing, and the bright blue squills. Squills squills-what in the world were squills? I walk down the patterned garden-paths In my stiff, brocaded gown.
With my powdered hair and jewelled fan, I too am a rare
Pattern.
Yes I too am a rare Pattern-she had loved that. Then-
With the shadows of the leaves and the sundrops,
And the plopping of the waterdrops
Plopping of the waterdrops-yes-that oddly lovely sexual phrase. Then that rhyme of daffodils and squills-
The daffodils and squills
Flutter in the breeze
As they please.
Squills-squills. What the HELL were squills? Little squids? Whales DID eat squids—yes, she had read that somewhere. Whales were real mad for squids and kept diving way way down until they found a poor little old squid to gobble up. And of course they'd prefer the young tender ones, the squills. Squillsdaffodils no no! little squids wouldn't be fluttering with daffodils-of course not-oh mercy, she HAD gotten real silly-those drinks! But what COULD they be? What a crying shame-she might die tomorrow and NEVER know what squills were, and it was such a happy, piquant little word, such a funny little word when you got it off all by itself. Squills-ska-wills-sskkaaa-wwiills"Billie Winters!" she suddenly heard Maud Ellen's voice say loudly. "what on EARTH are you giggling about?"
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