He's
told me nothing. Yet I'm happy. He keeps his heart and his soul from
me. And yet I'm happy and I don't care. Why am I so happy? "A
beautiful man," I said. "You have a lovely voice." Was that
forward of me? And I don't care. I don't think so, I love his voice.
Why shouldn't I? And yet. I spoke to him about my Friend. "A
younger sister," and he didn't understand a word. Oh, Lord. How
could you make me so plain? Last Sunday at Church the woman behind me
said, "She's so kind and generous. It's such a pity she's so plain
... that she is so plain ..."
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