” “It is very hard to explain,” he answered. “Do you think you’ll ever get married, Lucy?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably as she pulled her makeshift nightgown—an old T-shirt—over her head. ” He replied. 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. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. Sheppard, gently, "nor do I need any. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world.
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