"She's only here to review reports," Mycroft said. "There's really no need…."
"Now, Myc," Mummy replied severely, coming to stand behind her son. "If you think we're going to neglect your guest, you are quite mistaken." She gave Mycroft's shoulder a fierce squeeze. "Would you like some mulled cider, dear?"
His assistant smiled. "Yes, thanks."
"Good." Mummy moved toward the stove. "Remind me of your name, dear?"
"Sorina."
Mycroft looked up sharply, and then sighed. As usual, his mother was ignorant of her rare fortune. Mycroft could not envy her mind, but her technique, he had to acknowledge, was impressive.
