The old woman chuckled and cleared her throat. "Who else could it be but your own father?"
Cecilia Adler shot her a look, then glanced toward the open door where jars of supplements were piled high against the wall. "It's not like you let me go without. Why would I want his things?"
"He insisted on sending them, and I couldn't just throw them away, could I? Besides, as I see it, he's a pitiful man. Back in the day, your father was so young, devastatingly handsome, tall, and striking. If he went out without a mask, the entire street would be mobbed by young women..."
"What are you trying to say? Are you implying my mother threw herself at him?"
