One Fine Day / Mollie Panter-Downes

When [Mrs. Cranmer] went out, she had a way of snatching up an ancient tweed shooting-cape of Mr. Cranmer's and throwing it round her shoulders. Laura had met her one day, flapping across the fields towards one of her farms, stooping, prodding the earth familiarly with her stick, stumping on among a white and brown and piebald sea of dogs. Before she got too lame, she gardened in shock-boots and a hat like a bee skip. She did not care a button how she looked. But at dinner parties before the war, in black velvet and diamonds, she could look like a queen.