Dorothy: Ma, what is going on? Ever since you got that feather in the mail, you've been acting like a spy. I'm surprised you didn't check to see if someone was hiding out in the broom closet.
Sophia: Broom closet, right.
Dorothy: This is ridiculous, Ma.
Blanche: Oh, Dorothy, now she's right. I happen to know for a fact that at least two people can fit into the broom closet with room left over for a medium-sized cold-cut platter.