“I hope nothing is wrong. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. Except for a few early ebullitions of passion, natural to a warm and romantic disposition, and leaving no harmful after-effects—ebullitions that by the standards of the higher truth I feel no one can justly cast a stone at, and of which I for one am by no means ashamed—I come to you a pure and unencumbered man. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms.
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