As she poured him a cup of tea from the silver urn, she believed she caught a look of bemusement in his reflection of the glass tabletop. Or was it disdain? It was always so hard to tell with the Colonel. His enormous handlebar mustache made deciphering his moods rather a challenge. As they blew the steam from their cups, a light breeze passed through the wicker
slats and hollow aluminum frame of the coffee table
between them, cooling her stockingless ankles.