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</div>The next time Rikkie answered the door, she once again encountered a blonde woman. This one was taller and older than the first, seemingly closer in age to Miss Widcombe than to the first woman or to Rikkie. She was also taller, slender and had a beautiful neck. She looked as if she might have been a dancer when she was younger.<br/>
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Okay, Rikkie's life could only have been better if Rikkie had been born a girl and if Mr. Widcombe hadn't killed himself AND if Rikkie could have been a swan-like ballerina. Don't make silly wishes, she told herself, do your job!<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(247, 218, 100)">"Welcome, Ma'am,"</span> Rikkie said to the newcomer.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(247, 218, 100)"> "Please let me show you to the parlor. There's a coffee urn and service there, if you wish. However, if you wish to use the powder room, then I will show you the way there. My name is Rikkie. If there's anything you need, please let me know and I will see if I can manage it."</span><br/>
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Blondes, came the thought to Rikkie's mind. Mrs. Widcombe had been blonde. Miss Widcombe happened to be blonde. The waitress that had arrived was blonde. This new person was blonde. It shouldn't have surprised Rikkie, maybe subconsciously she had known it, that Marcus Widcombe had an almost fetish for blondes.</span>