“I thought you didn’t like Arlene,” Pete whispered, rolling ground meat into balls and adding them to the sizzling skillet, and Mrs. Grace just whispered back, “A successful dinner party needs just one person all the others loathe, Pete—it gives everyone something to unite against.” Pete found himself grinning when Arlene broke off sniping about house rules and moaned, “What is that smell? I can’t have red meat, not on my new regime—” “Diets might be good for the waistline but not for the temperament,” Grace advised. “Eat the red meat, sugar pie.” “Well, maybe just this once . . .”
