When She Smiled It Was As Though

Men Are Simpler Than You Imagine My Sweet Child. But What Goes On In The Twisted, Tortuous Minds Of Women Would Baffle Anyone.

This House Sheltered Us, We Spoke, We Loved Within Those Walls. That Was Yesterday. To-day We Pass On, We See It No More, And We Are Different, Changed In Some Infinitesimal Way. We Can Never Be Quite The Same Again.

I Could Fight With The Living But I Could Not Fight The Dead. If There Was Some Woman In London That Maxim Loved, Someone He Wrote To, Visited, Dined With, Slept With, I Could Fight Her. We Would Stand On Common Ground. I Should Not Be Afraid. Anger And Jealousy Were Things That Could Be Conquered. One Day The Woman Would Grow Old Or Tired Or Different, And Maxim Would Not Love Her Anymore. But Rebecca Would Never Grow Old. Rebecca Would Always Be The Same. And She And I Could Not Fight. She Was To Strong For Me.

When The Leaves Rustle, They Sound Very Much Like The Stealthy Movement Of A Woman In Evening Dress, And When They Shiver Suddenly, And Fall, And Scatter Away Along The Ground, They Might Be The Patter Of A Woman’s Hurrying Footsteps, And The Mark In The Gravel The Imprint Of A High-heeled Shoe.

How Pleasant,' Dona Said, Peeling Her Fruit; 'the Rest Of Us Can Only Run Away From Time To Time, And However Much We Pretend To Be Free, We Know It Is Only For A Little While - Our Hands And Our Feet Are Tied.