We followed the secretary up the stairs. It wasn't a mansion but it wasn't a typical house. I figured 18-20 rooms.
We met Mrs. Dabney. She scrutinized us carefully. She had a retinue; her secretary, a handyman and general factotum named Dodge and two other women. I had no idea what they did. Mr. Randall, the rug man, cowered in a corner
Picture a Maytag washing machine: five feet high, three feet wide. That was Mrs. Dabney.
She looked like an amalgam of Charles Laughton and Everett Dirksen.
Picture Joe Namath the N.Y. Jets quarterback barking signals. That wass Mrs. Dabney
She sounded like a wounded angry water buffalo.
Frail old lady indeed. Boy, we read the ad wrong. Very wrong.
Her husband took the easy way out thirty year ago. He had a massive coronary.
