Peggy beamed warmly at the sweet story he told her, licking her finger of errant jam as he placed the toast in front of her. Quite how he knew she was craving strawberry jam was beyond her; he had a sixth sense for the needs of others and the soup was evident of that.
"I'm surprised he tried your soup again if it tasted like boiled socks the first time around, Mr Rogers." she teased, tucking into her crunchy, sweet toast and almost moaning from how it satisfied her. "Do you need some help?"