She Was A Mischief, And That Was

She Smiled, A Moving Childish Smile That Was Like All The Lost Youth In The World.

He Had Possessed The Arrogance Of A Tall Member Of A Short Race, With No Obligation Save To Be Tall.

What Do You Think Of That? It’s Stopped Raining." I’m Glad Jay." Her Throat, Full Of Aching, Grieving Beauty, Told Only Of Her Unexpected Joy.

I Like France, Where Everybody Thinks He's Napoleon--down Here Everybody Thinks He's Christ.

Dishonesty In A Woman Is A Thing You Never Blame Deeply.