By Amy Ephron
Rosemary Fell was once born into privilege. She has wealth, well–connected buddies, and a good-looking fiance, Philip Alsop. eventually she has every little thing she wants.
It is then, in a second of beneficence, that Rosemary invitations Eleanor Smith, a penniless younger lady she sees below a streetlamp within the rain, into her domestic for a cup of tea. whereas there, Rosemary sees Eleanor trade an unmistakable glance with Philip, and he or she sends Eleanor on her manner. yet she can't undo this opportunity come across, and it results in a tempestuous and all–consuming love triangle –– until eventually the tides of warfare throw all their lives off balance.
Inspired by way of a vintage Katherine Mansfield brief tale, A Cup of Tea engages with its shiny –– and infrequently fun –– forged of characters, awesome interval element, excellent evocation of the doubtful days of global warfare I, and delightfully spare and picturesque feel of story.
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Additional info for A Cup of Tea: A Novel of 1917
She turned back to her friend. “Anyway, they’re all smitten with her. ” Mrs. Mayhew laughed at her own joke. ” The woman she was referring to was a psychic, a gypsy, who recently, because of a number of well-placed predictions, had become a bit of a rage about town. “Katherine swears she conjured up Henry Goggins the other night right in Mrs. Van der Owen’s living room,” said Mrs. Mayhew. ” “I sort of liked him,” said Mrs. Mayhew’s friend, Hilary. ” said Mrs. Mayhew as though her friend had said something untoward.
She looked at Rosemary and hesitated before speaking. ” the creature stammered. ” Rosemary couldn’t help but notice it wasn’t the voice of a street-person. ” she asked. “None at all, ma’am,” was the answer. Rosemary considered this a moment. She looked over at her car and her driver who stood waiting for her. The rain was coming down in sheets around them. It was like something one would read about, to find a girl in the dusk and bring her home for tea. Ought she to have been frightened that the girl would turn out to be a thief or half-mad.
I hate it when you don’t answer me,” he said. ” Rosemary interrupted him. ” He knew instantly who she meant. “I never expected her to repay me,” Rosemary said. ” he said, appearing to still be distracted. “You know. Miss Smith. The one I picked up that day in the rain and brought home for tea. ” Rosemary looked very pleased with herself. On the couch, Philip has shut his eyes. The shops were closing for the night. The streets were crowded with taxis, carriages, people on their way home on foot or running to catch the streetcar, women with children hanging on their skirts making hurried stops in food-stores and the apothecary shop on the corner which closed conveniently a half-hour after everyone else.