I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. But it is all very different. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. “It is hard to express one’s self, but I do want to be honest with you. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. There ends my duty.
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