Paul’s, were rich and wonderful with the soft sunshine of London, the softest, the finest grained, the most penetrating and least emphatic sunshine in the world. For fifteen years!—so long as I can remember! All I wanted was a little love, a caress now and then. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. It seemed at first the most beautiful afternoon of all time to her, and perhaps the thrill of her excitement did add a distinctive and culminating keenness to the day. “Indeed,” she said, “I would not.
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