Oh, this was positively delicious. Daphne had decided that her new task of the day was carefully and subtly poking at Pam and driving a wedge between her and Kate. That ought to be a good play. She made a show of looking embarrassed in response to the anger of her own suggestion, sitting timidly and hugging her arms with a whisper of, "Sorry, Father. I meant no disrespect," in Jim's direction.
And then she thought maybe she wouldn't have to poke at Pam at all, because the woman looked ready to start screaming without any gentle nudges. She opened her mouth and closed it once, as though she really didn't know what to say, then she focused her sights on Marco. Marco, still holding a dripping shirt. "Hang on, do you really not know how to do laundry?" God, she hoped not. That would just be the cherry on top.