My sister made me over, you know. ‘I don’t think you need do that, Melusine—if I may call you so. ” “How much do you owe them?” She knew forty pounds was a quite impossible sum for their neighbors. “Sir John of course disapproves of me,” she remarked slowly. Maybe later. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside.
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