Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain, though it presently descended in torrents, and continued his search as ardently as before. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. It’s 180 endearing. “Women should understand men’s affairs, perhaps,” said Miss Garvice, “but to mingle in them is just to sacrifice that power of influencing they can exercise now.
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