An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving

I`d like you to start with the bedroom,

and this time

I`d like you to lift up

my perfume bottles, please.

When you do the dusting, dust.

Byron.

Perhaps you require more privacy.

Gideon!

He`s meant for you.

Why didn`t you write you were coming?

It was meant to be a surprise.

Well, that was a nasty trick.

-Trick?

-Yes. You`ve completely changed.

I can see you haven`t.

I`ve matured more than it might first appear.

So I see.

You`ve been away for decades.

How many languages do you speak now?

Three?

How are you, Tilly?

There must be a more compelling topic.

Whenever I wrote to you about your father

you never answered.

No one knows more

about losing a loved one than I do.

Don`t let`s talk about this, Gideon. Please.

Mother says that you`re behind on the rent.

There must be something I can do

to help you.

Give me your news.

News?

I see, I shall have to torture you,

Lord Stickywicket,

if I mean to get at the truth.

Never, Madam Busybody!

I will die before giving up my secrets.

Mrs. Caldwell?

Were my suspicions confirmed?

-ls she my grandmother?

-She is.

What is she like?

In body, well-favored. In speech, eloquent.

In manner, refined.

Go on.

She lives in a house as big as a palace,

paintings by all the great masters.

Name them.

Cezanne.

-You lie.

-Degas.

Gideon.

She`s well-read.

Keeping up with her in conversation

is like dancing on coals.

My letter. Was it delivered?

Tilly...

-Did she read it?

-Yes.

-What did she say?

-She threw it away.

I`m so sorry.

Don`t be silly.

It`s not right.

After all, what did I expect?

She doesn`t know what she`s missing.

There must be some reason

they haven`t spoken in all this time.

Till.

Don`t forget.

I was just saying to myself, ``l wonder

how those poor children are doing?``

And here you are, right before my eyes.

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