This is a saute pan. This is buere, avec sal. Et sans. Taste each. And the margarine. And oils."Maria was hard pressed to keep up, but by the end of t...e session she had managed to fry an egg, scramble one, and poach one almost to Madame's satisfaction. Eggs! She hadn't had one since that fateful day and now she was chewing three, listening to Madame discuss their failings in texture and doneness. With salt, and pepper, and buttered toast points. She had promised to never let margarine in her. Anna dragged herself from this train of thought - she only had a few minutes of preparation time left, and if she didn't have everything just so for his arrival there would be hell to pay. She briskly moved back into the bedroom, unsnapping the case and rifling through it with practised ease. Lifting the mattress, she placed a complicated snarl of belts on the bed frame, which she deftly untangled before remaking the bed. Next she removed a variety of implements from the case, lining them up. "Although it was, of course. I had just stopped myself because I wasaware of how it would have sounded."We were never close growing up..." she went on."To put it mildly," I snorted. "You'd get up and walk out of the roomwhen I came in!" And you kept sneaking into my bedroom and throwing my clothes allover the place, particularly my first bras, and you laddered my firstgrown-up tights."I'd forgotten that. We fell silent."No, we were never friends," she said, "but we're family. You're. "Mike and I talked about this a little while ago,” Tiffany explained. “Then I talked to Pam.”Pam nodded in agreement. “I said we would be happy to help.”"So now what?" Tiffany asked.Pam went to the kitchen and came back with the wine glasses and gave one to Tiffany. She told me to go mix a drink while Tiffany and she had a chat. She patted the couch seat beside her."Come and sit here, Tiffany," she instructed.As Tiffany sat next to Pam I went and mixed a drink. I drank it all. I poured another.