Roger scoffed and turned to regard his daughter through the glass, “Hmph, some call it that, yes. You should ask my wife what she thinks of it all.”

Dutifully, but with a withering glance the pastor turned to Daphne. She did not pose a question. She did not make a comment. She stood and allowed the silence to bid the woman speak.

“Ghastly business,” Daphne said in a hollow tone, eyes in the direction of the glass but blank, “A purposeful end. Dignity as much as possible. Poppycock and lies, all of it. Nasty, undignified, sniveling lies.”

Carefully, the pastor intoned, “Then you and your husband are not…of one accord on the matter?”

“My husband is an opportunistic bastard, aren’t you, Roger? Aren’t you?”

The women turned from their delicate conversation. Roger was not there, only an empty space before the viewing window. The pastor struggled to contain her shock and disdain. She did poorly on both counts, not that Daphne minded. She actually appreciated it.