Also, she was a woman of forty-three, which, after all, is not wrinkled and withered eld; and she was not a soured woman; she radiated health and sweetness; she had loved once in her life, very dearly.

Romance touched her with his golden feather and, in the most sensible and the most unreprehensible way in the world, she fell in love with Paul.
"I wonder what made you put that Santa Barbara of Palma Vecchio just opposite the bed," he said one day.

He had advanced so far toward recovery as to be able to sit up against his pillows.
"Don't you like it ?" She turned in her chair by his bedside.
"I worship it.

Do you know, she has a strange look of you?
When I was half off my head I used to mix you up together.

She has such a generous and holy bigness--the generosity of the All-woman." Ursula flushed at the personal tribute, but let it pass without comment.