Self Possession [antikvár]

Chapter 1 Angela climbed down off the dining-room table. At least the hem should be straight, whatever the rest of the dress looked like. No dipping skirtUne to compound its defects. Though she had managed not to look at herself in the mirror. Better not to know. And indeed it might make her look very attractive, suit her quite well. Aunt Mavis came into the room in time to see the climbing down, and was horrified. "Oh dear, shoes on the table. We all know what that means, don't we?" "But isn't that shoes without feet in them?" "How would that of made any difference?" Mavis shook her head in glee and sorrow. "You won't get married this year." "Well, she doesn't want to," said Mrs Mayhew. "She's got more important things to do, this year." "And besides," said Angela, "it's a superstition, it can't be true. How can putting your shoes on the table stop you getting married?" "Och," said Mavis. "We mustn't tempt fate. Must we." Her expression suggested fate might be all too ready to rise to the bait. A girl of twenty, with no prospects. Never had a boyfriend in her life. Plain and clever, at once. "I think it's just a plot to get young women to be tidy," murmured Angela. "By making awful threats about permanent spinsterhood."