Ramsay yawned his way to the table and mumbled something that could have been a greeting or an insult. They rarely resorted to good manners with each other. An ashen Edith pinched out a piece of toast from the rack but then put it to one side as if it were crawling with spiders. “Have some rum,” Shirley suggested. “That always does the trick for me.” Edith shuddered at the idea.
