At one of the many grand, round, oak tables sat the Lords and their Ladies. A soft clatter of silver and bone china, and quiet murmurings filled the air. 'Look ahead. Don't gawp. Move it.' Brian the manager's chest filled with pride as he pushed Mary in the back, causing her to drop her tatty bag of belongings. Pieces of twig and shiny pebbles fell onto the soft carpet. Her two best marbles rolled off in different directions. One, in silence, meandered across the floor and, with a quiet plonk, hit a table leg. Brian's face got redder. 'You stupid, clumsy oaf,' he said and raised his hand to slap her head. 'Stop that Brian. There is no need at all.' One of the ladies picked up the marble, looked at it, then Mary, and said 'I would like to give you a game sometime. Bet you can do smashers and grabbers.' Mary put her stuff back in the bag. 'Bet you I can an'all, and knockees and keepses and ...' Brian stepped in. 'I'm so sorry madam; she is just a peasant girl of no meaning. I will, of cour...'. Lady Sackville ignored him and looked directly into Mary's eyes. 'You new here then?' next »