A little bit from Frankentim.
Meanwhile, on the road someplace in Charm City:
”Don’t you think it’s sad, Frank?” Tim Bayliss asked, getting that pensive look his partner loathed.
”Death is always sad, Tim. Hence the lack of party favors as funerals.” Pembleton said, his gaze laserlike on the road in front of him.
But it didn’t help. “No, no, more than that. She’s bright...went to school in England or something. Survived things that would make most people head for the hills...and yet...”
“What’s your point, Bayliss?”
“What was she doing talking to people from a box in her office?”
“But she wasn’t. She’d met most of these people. Sent them cake.”
“Why was she sending cake to strangers, Frank? That doesn’t seem sad to you?”
“Not really, Tim. People like cake. And you’re the one who’s bitching that we don’t break bread together.It’d be worth a pastry or two to get that to stop.”
“I still think that kind of isolation contributed to her death.”
“Let me get this straight. Out of all the motives in the world, you’re going with ‘quiet desperation’...It doesn’t wash.”