Explore "Tragedy at Ravensthorpe" by J.J. Connington on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"How time flies! " said Joan Chacewater, in mock despondency. "Tonight I'm in my prime. Tomorrow I shall be twenty-one, with all my bright youth behind me. Five years after that, I shall quite possibly be married to Michael here, if I'm still alive and he hasn't died in the meantime. Then I shall sit o' nights darning his socks in horn-rimmed spectacles, and sadly recalling those glad days when I was young and still happy. It's dreadful! I feel I want to cry over it. Give me something to cry into, Michael; I seem to have mislaid my bag."
Michael Clifton obligingly held out a handkerchief. Joan looked at it disparagingly.