Going downstairs for lunch found Mrs Payne eating toast and exclaimed was pleased to find her getting better. Received reply that yes was getting better thank you very much, and further had fearful appetite. Upon further investigation begged Mrs Payne's pardon, but what was she having on toast? This happily answered with caviare! Explained that now well had tried caviare again and found it positively divine. Was best spread rather thick on buttered toast. Further, asked why had I bought such a small tin, as had all but finished it and would I be able to go to supermarket to get more and perhaps larger tin this time?
Positively froze at this. Opened tin to find tiniest amount left, even less than we had sampled on Wednesday. Explained slowly that reason tin was so small was because was rather expensive. This declared as nonsense, and really would be able to buy positively gallons of the stuff for the 500 pounds she had earned. Replied this unfortunately not true, as small tin had been purchased for 125 pounds.
At this Mrs Payne froze also, with pallor returning to that of one with utmost illness. With bite of toast imminent, Mrs Payne proceeded to withdraw toast from mouth, now showing semi-circle of tooth marks where bite had started. Carefully putting mauled toast on plate, Mrs Payne first opened mouth in silent awe, before asking with quiver,
"I beg you pardon? Did you say one hundred? And twenty five pounds?". This confirmed with nod. At this, with reactions of a hyena, Mrs Payne picked up knife and scraped remaining caviare from toast back into tin, now unpleasant mixture of butter, caviare and toast crumbs. Looking at the mess Mrs Payne uttered thoughtfully,
"Do you think they'll notice?".