He pulled out a cream envelope and laid it on the table.

The drawer was packed with folders, and the envelope sat on top of them like a fresh bandage.

“Patricia sent this over yesterday,” he said.

“She thought I ought to see it before Saturday.”

The envelope was heavy stock, the kind you order by the box.

He slipped out a reply card.

It was the formal RSVP for the engagement party, addressed to Mrs.

Carter in careful black ink.