“I admired your sister in Paris,” he answered, “but I do not believe that I regard her now as altogether the same person. “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. And so she came upon the word Love. A kind but hard looking female officer named Rose took her into a room and sat her down at a small wooden table. Well, they’d got to the pheasants, and in a little while he would smoke. His manner was deferential, even eager. Forgive me if a certain warmth creeps into my words! The Park is green and gray to-day, but I am glowing pink and gold.
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