Another Day, Another Dolor

Maryanne’s name fell apart. Two women, Mary and Anne, now consoled her. They were younger and prettier--blonde, while she was a brunette--and, almost dolls, their expenses were slight. Maryanne thought tenderly of Mary and Anne. The little images were real, they were sent to do the unpleasant things. Poor little Mary was a secretary, though Maryanne, when she worked at all, scrubbed floors. Anne walked the dog, especially when it rained, and the people admired Maryanne for her daughter (or servant, the role varied). Maryanne still walked Lillah occasionally, and complained gently of Anne, her favorite. That way she concealed her pride; why make people jealous?