Letty’s hesitation, her slight feeling that perhaps they ought not to be drinking when poor Marcia had never touched a drop, was taken by Father G. to be womanly modesty or ignorance of what was available. ‘Why not try a dry Martini?’ he suggested. ‘That will pull you together.’ ‘Yes, I do feel as if I needed something like that,’ she agreed, and when the drink came it did seem to achieve a kind of pulling together. There is something in it, she thought, the comfort of drink at a time like this.
