“I’m just off, aunt,” said Ann Veronica. ” She eyed him scornfully. "No matter. "It is useless," replied Mrs. ” “God, Lucy, you’re always so serious! I was only joking!” She pulled her underwear on and fiddled with the legs of her tight jeans. Promise me. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. 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.
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