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224 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1960
She pitied, deeply and sincerely, her married friends, especially those among them who, since the disappearance of servants, found themselves in the humiliating position of having to minister to their menfolk. They had been lured into marriage by strange biological urges, and there they were, stuck with husbands. Not for them the delicious little salads of asparagus flanked by two halves of tomato; not for them the charm of quiet evenings passed in satisfying solitude, or the cool, uninvaded bed with its silken hangings and a bedroom whose door was opened only to admit the morning tea. The poor things, however, had made their marriage beds and they must lie on them.This is the kind of book you breeze through on an afternoon, when you are too lazy to do anything else.
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“It works out,” she said. “If you’ve got any intelligence and if you’re not too starry-eyed about a man, you can sum him up pretty well before you marry him. You take him as he is. Sometimes you’d rather have him changed in this way or in that, but on the whole you’re happy putting up with him as he is. If that isn’t romance, it’s something better: it’s marriage..."
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The watchword of half the English nation is: don’t get mixed up in it.