The old grandfather clock in the corner struck eleven.

I carried the heavy basket in and put it down on the glass coffee table.

I offered her a seat on the flowered sofa.

Vanessa sat and kept her knees pressed neatly together.

She glanced around the room and praised the brass lamps and the antique rugs.

She sounded just like the polite, soft-spoken girl Ethan had first brought to dinner a year earlier.

“We’re wrapping up the party details today,” Vanessa said.