"The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. “My Mom was a good lady. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. 238 < 30 > IN BED John drove her home after school nearly every day. They were horrible people. If you can imagine it, I survived it. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley.
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