The Virtuous Woman
My peace and quiet was disturbed by a knock on my office door. Apparently my morning tea, a habit I had grown quite used to in my old age, was about to be disturbed by some idiotic student who must be unable to read the listed "office hours" on whichever syllabus they have for whatever class I'm about to fail them in. I shifted in my seat, sighed deeply, and said, "come in." It was instead Mark Cashew, an adjunct I'd hired a couple years back. "Wondering if I could have a moment of...