Chapter 13
WORD REACHED the kitchen that Madame Sabine wanted tea.
Dora let fly a string of swear words that would make a sailor blush.
“Tea, huh? She wants f*****g tea? Why the f**k does she think I have time to make f*****g tea? And she wants f*****g cakes, too?”
“I’ll bring it,” Maartje said.
“No, I will,” Nellie said. She would not send either of the sisters to that woman’s room, no matter how much she hated going herself.
Nellie collected a pretty teapot and made the “f*****g” tea in the midst of the chaos. She put the pot and a dainty cup on a tray and walked up the stairs, dodging servants coming down with empty trays, dodging drunks stumbling through the foyer, and breathing the fresh—if biting cold—air that came in through the open front doors. She pretended not to notice th
