My Darling Frederick,
I write to you from the heart of the Trump Casino, bearing the unfortunate news that I am with child. You needn't write to me. I fully understand that a gentleman of your status would dishonor his family name by marrying beneath him.
In exchange for my silence regarding the lineage of my child, I hope that you will grant me a few allowances.
One: It is important that seven jars of orange marmalade are delivered to my rooms semiannually.
Two: I would like a steady supply of ballpoint pens.
Three: I shall never touch a piece of cotton again in my life.
I have every confidence that we shall reach an amicable agreement.
Regards,
Your Aunt Calgary
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