Women like me don’t have a life. We choose clothes, and pay calls, and work for charity, and do the season. But, really, we’re stuck in a waiting room, until we marry.
‘I’ve made you angry.’
My life makes me angry, not you.
Women like me don’t have a life. We choose clothes, and pay calls, and work for charity, and do the season. But, really, we’re stuck in a waiting room, until we marry.
‘I’ve made you angry.’
My life makes me angry, not you.