Henry was in fear of her — and rightly so, because she had decided that he was just the right man to marry. The fact that he had never proposed, tha... he avoided her at every opportunity had not fazed her, and she was busy in her spare time planning the wedding ceremony.David made his way down a narrow corridor to the tea-room. This was a small room not much bigger than a closet. But it had the makings for tea and a tin of cookies — biscuits the English called them. Strange name for cookies. ”“What do you mean?” asked Martha.“Well, there’s nowhere to buy furniture, nowhere to buy books, only this hotel, only one clothes shop, only one garage and that’s the blacksmith’s as well, only one dairy. Oh, and of course there’s only one chapel. We all think pretty much alike in this village.”“What do you do for entertainment?” Martha persisted, judging the receptionist to be much her own age.“We don’t have a cinema, nor do most people have TV. We go to church socials most weeks, except. More

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