The young custodian took off his hat and knelt on the floor.

His thick, blond hair uncoiled and fell around his shoulders.
It clung a moment to the coarse cloth of his jacket, and then, little by little, it separated and spread like the hair of a woman.

It was parted in the middle and hung on both sides over his shoulders and neck.

The golden mass rippled with light every time he moved his head bent in prayer.
The little girl kneeled beside him and let her flowers fall to the ground.

For the first time in my life, I understood the beauty of a man's locks and the fascination they may have for bare and playful arms.
A strange progress, indeed, is that which consists in curtailing everywhere the grand superfetations nature has bestowed upon us, so that whenever we discover them in all their virgin splendour, they are a revelation to us..