"There's no right order here," Millicent insisted. There's a conventional order, that's all. And who wants to be conventional and proper anyway?"
She found the recipe she was looking for and started dumping ingredients into a bowl. She wasn't so much for the careful and measured, even when baking, but she measured the important parts and was good at estimating the rest. It was good enough for her and nobody ever complained about it.
She had to stop and stare at Tracey at the last thing she said though. Stare and then laugh like a crazy person. "Oh my God," she said. "Can you imagine? I would make that poor bloke regret he was ever born. Touching? I'll break his wrist. Both of them actually. And if he as much as dared to open a door for me."
She shook her head and went back to her cake.
"The first round of those classes are only for people who report themselves, or have family or friends thick enough to do it for them. Looks like I can be loud and obnoxious a while longer before it becomes a problem."