We’re just off to my sister Violet’s. You know, the one with the Mercedes, the sauna, and room for a pony.
No, you cannot have a number 24, nor a double portion of 37. This isn’t the Chinese takeaway. This is a private, slimline, white telephone.
My sister Violet! She married a turf accountant. They have a very large house, a swimming pool, and room for a pony.
I want you to look through my collection of haute cuisine cookery books — without, of course, creasing the pages — and find little things that we can do quickly on sticks. You know the sort of thing: tasty little morsels of the highest social calibre.