"What's so funny?" Marc asked suspiciously.
"Darling," Julie said, "don't you remember the pink lace underwear mother gave me for Christmas and how I loathed it? Well, I brought it to the country where it wouldn't matter just so I could wear it out and get rid of it."
Marc's relief came to the surface in a smile. "Then pink lace is out, huh?"
"Definitely," Julie said. "But if you insist on lingerie, get me something wicked and black. No true siren would ever dream of letting herself be caught in pink."
Marc reached across the seat and drew her close to him. "In the spring time," he said, "a young man's likely to get fancy."
The sun, on the horizon, slid conveniently out of sight and was gone. As it did, a breeze blew lightly through the car and somewhere, it seemed, there was laughter.