At The Manor

Brian closes out the work week in London with a sophisticated stripe of nightsky and silver.  From her seat in the hall, she watched as the servants set the table in the formal dining room.  It was like a sort of domestic ballet, with the men and women laying silver, placing water goblets, and adding the gilt-edged chargers all with deft, graceful movements and all in complete silence.  When it was done--in breathtaking speed--a white-haired man produced a small measuring stick and went about the task of making sure each item was impeccably placed while the rest waited anxiously, eyes never leaving the table.  In her own nervous state, she found that she, too, held her breath.