Cecily: I was looking at wedding rings this morning.
Arnaud: Why?! Butterflies’ fingers are too thin for rings dear. You must be ill. Go and see a doctor.
Cecily: I need a ring. What if I get old and nobody loves me enough to keep me company, and all I have left is old copies of Vogue magazine and thoughts about what could have been if I had shared my life with somebody? Maybe the doctor will marry me…
thedailymails 