Finally, an older woman arrives. Her hair gray, she's short and bosomy wearing a blue mid-calf length dress. I've seen her before but don't remember her name. She stares at the floor and nervously wrings her hands. I can smell her fear and my ire intensifies. I treat my people well and I would swear she thinks I kick puppies on a daily basis. I have no time to waylay her qualms, though I try very hard not to growl as I speak. "Start a bath and be sure the water is tepid. I need to ...