October 1941
Moe speaks to an army chaplain a priest who is sympathetic and interested and helps him deal with his issues of staying religious in the army. Annie gets a warm welcome from her long-lost elegant Aunt Cele and promises to return the next day.
There was no white-cuffed maid answering the door when Annie rang Aunt Cele’s bell the next afternoon. It was opened by an elderly woman in a navy suit trimmed with leopard skin which even to Annie’s unsophisticated eye looked beautifully cut and undoubtedly terribly expensive.
“So you’re the long-lost niece” she said. Her voice was low and arresting; a voice accustomed to command and instant obedience — a voice that didn’t bother with niceties but cut straight to the core.
She smiled an unexpectedly charming smile and stuck out a bejeweled hand. “Hilda Westheim. Your aunt’s best friend and most avid critic.”
