"The next appointment," announced Father Muratori implacably, "is a certain Ms. Mary Carpenter."
"Ms.?" said the archbishop. "Of what vintage is this Ms. Carpenter?" He accented the Ms. both times he used it.
His secretary shrugged. "Her term, Archbishop. I'd say she has at least a year to go before she's 20."
"Do we know her or what she wants?"
"What she wants is 'personal,' she says, and she looks vaguely familiar to me, but I don't think I know her."