How very very rude of me it was at lunch to wish to eat my own bag of crisps! I should have, of course, known that Clara wanted them. The face of horror she pulled when I dared to take half the crisps out of the packet before I handed over the other half to her was tantamount only to the expression I imagine Hitlers had when he was told it wasn't acceptable to invade Poland! This was followed shortly after by a dramatic march across the cafe at Bowood House and the Oscar worthy slump onto the pillar to sob her little heart out.
Will I never learn that EVERYTHING belongs to Clara unless we are explicitly told otherwise?!
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