BoBo’s in the butler’s secretary in the living room. My mother’s in the attic. One’s in a maroon velveteen bag and the other’s in a little black shopping bag.
An interesting way to end up after living a large life, isn’t it?
Stuart, on the other hand, came back to us in a handsome wooden box with an engraved brass name plate. A total surprise to us. But it just happened that way. We didn’t choose any of it.
Isn’t that just like Stuart? Always handsome. Always proper. Always dignified.
No bag for him.