May we do it again? She sounds remarkably bright and cheerful. 'And I didn't bleed. My mother said I would experience great agony.' 'Half an hour.' 'I beg your pardon? Your mumbling.' Eyes closed, I attempt to enunciate a little more clearly. 'In half an hour or so. Probably. And your mother was misinformed.' 'What am I suppose to do in the meantime?' 'Oh. Read a Sermon. Embroider something