They sat in pairs, their teacups rising and falling from their lips automatically. First Mr. and Mrs. Bear would drink, then the young couple, Barbara and Kenneth Roberts. Ann and Andrew drank next, better behaved than their unkempt garb might suggest. One by one, in turn, the guests dutifully sipped from their porcelain.
They did not want to be there. In fact, they had no choice in the matter. Whensoever their hostess desired it, they would descend upon their seats, brought their by the hostess's will. There they sat until their turn came to take tea and their limbs moved without their consent to deliver the unwanted liquid. The hostess would force a conversation from the silent party. She spoke to them; she spoke for them. It made no difference to her, for there were bodies around a table, and that was what counted.
As the hostess played out her charade, a woman entered the room.
"Oh, sweetheart," the woman chided, "you really shouldn't use Mommy's good china to play tea-party with your dolls."
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