What do you think I’ll look like when I’m forty, Anne?” “Like an old, matronly, married woman,” teased Anne. “I won’t,” said Phil, sitting down comfortably to wait for her escort. “Joseph, you calico beastie, don’t you dare jump on my lap. I won’t go to a dance all over cat hairs. No, Anne, I won’t look matronly. But no doubt I’ll be married.” “To Alec or Alonzo?” asked Anne.
I love how they actually talk like friends talk—they tease each other and such. It’s so fun to read about.
