Solitaire

Sometimes I find my sister at the public library. She always goes to the Periodicals Reading Room to flip through the pages of Time and the Economist. She's always been attracted to the business magazines, I can't understand why. Today though she was giving trouble to the librarians. I heard her voice the minute I walked through the doors: she is a little hard of hearing, so she tends to speak loudly. "I want to learn how to play solitaire with cards!" she insisted. But nobody could help her. "Is it a game?" I heard a men's voice ask her. "Yes, it's a game," she cried, "We used to play it in fifteenth and sixteenth --" she didn't finish a sentence, and I wonder what she was going to say: fifteenth and sixteenth what? I was climbing the stairs, and couldn't make out what happened next, but as I entered the hall I saw her turn away from the reference desk with angry words: "I better go home. Of course, you haven’t got anything on solitaire!" Then she saw me -- I think she maybe even recognized me for a moment, because she asked: "Do you know how to play solitaire?"