There Would Be No One There To

The Voice Of The Sea Speaks To The Soul. The Touch Of The Sea Is Sensuous, Enfolding The Body In Its Soft, Close Embrace.

She's Got Some Sort Of Notion In Her Head Concerning The Eternal Rights Of Women.

Madame Ratignolle Hoped That Robert Would Exercise Extreme Caution In Dealing With The Mexicans, Who, She Considered, Were A Treacherous People, Unscrupulous And Revengeful. She Trusted She Did Them No Injustice In Thus Condemning Them As A Race. She Had Known Personally But One Mexican, Who Made And Sold Excellent Tamales, And Whom She Would Have Trusted Implicitly, So Soft-spoken Was He. One Day He Was Arrested For Stabbing His Wife. She Never Knew Whether He Had Been Hanged Or Not.

Why?" Asked Her Companion. "why Do You Love Him When You Ought Not To?" Edna, With A Motion Or Two, Dragged Herself On Her Knees Before Mademoiselle Reisz, Who Took The Glowing Face Between Her Two Hands. "why? Because His Hair Is Brown And Grows Away From His Temples; Because He Opens And Shuts His Eyes, And His Nose Is A Little Out Of Drawing; Because He Has Two Lips And A Square Chin, And A Little Finger Which He Can't Straighten From Having Played Baseball Too Energetically In His Youth. Because - " "because You Do, In Short," Laughed Mademoiselle.

Who Can Tell What Metals The Gods Use In Forging The Subtle Bond Which We Call Sympathy, Which We Might As Well Call Love.