November 1940
November 1940November 1940Isabelle sipped her tea and looked over a copy of the paper at breakfast. “Good Lord.”
“What is it?” Elizabeth and Hetty asked at the same time. They were nestled in the cozy dining room at Charles Humphrey’s townhouse, where Hetty had insisted they move after Isabelle’s home had been lost in the bombing last month.
Isabelle spread the paper flat on the table. “They’ve cut rations again.” Elizabeth leaned over her aunt’s shoulder to see the article.
“Well, how bad is it this time?” Hetty asked as she spread a meager pat of butter on her toast.
“Sugar allowance is only eight ounces a week now,” Elizabeth said. “Tea is two ounces, and margarine as well as cooking fats join butter on the ration books. They’re stopping production on cups, cutlery, k
