Читать книгу The Art of Love - Elizabeth Edmondson - Страница 15

‘They think you must be a war hero, limping like that,’ Harriet said, as she slung her lacrosse stick into the back of Max’s blue Delage.

‘Hey, careful there, I don’t want rips in the leather.’

‘That’s the trouble with a swish car, you can’t just sling things in,’ said Harriet. ‘Daddy’s old jalopy was much better in that way, although of course not nearly so smart.’