“I would love a slice of your home-made cake with my tea. Did you bake it specially?” Sowerbutt beamed, putting on the charm that endeared him to Polly. He never knew what to call Mrs Dipper as he thought of her. He did not even know Dipper’s surname, he was just Dipper.
“Don’t have much call for big operations, Mr Sorbay,” Dipper, a long sausage of a man, said. “The FA Cup Finals, Christmas crowds in Oxford Street, big events in Trafalgar Square - that sort of thing.”Placing a wooden side table besides his chair, Mrs Dipper smiled at Sowerbutt and poured some tea into his Wedgewood cup. She placed a side plate next to it with a white paper serviette and two thick slices of home-made tea cake, all on top of a lace doily.“You say the mark is coming in on the Weymouth train?” http://amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA 
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