where I placed it as far away as possible from the very practical waterproof which hung there already.
I sat down opposite herthe chair released a tired whump of stale air from its grubby cushions.
She smiled at me. Her teeth! Oh, Ms. Temple.
She had done her best, but nothing could change the size of them, I supposed.
They belonged in a far bigger mouth, perhaps not even a human one.
I was reminded of a photograph that the Telegraph had featured some time ago,
of a monkey which had grabbed a camera and taken its own grinning photograph (a “selfie”).
The poor woman; an adjective which one would never wish to have applied to one’s teeth was simian.
“I’m Maria Temple, Eleanor—erm, Miss Oliphant,” she said, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She looked intently at me, which made me sit forward in my seat, not wanting to show how uncomfortable I was feeling.
“Have you ever had counseling before, Miss Oliphant?” she said, taking out a notebook from her handbag.
It had, I noticed, several accessories attached to it, key rings and the like—
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