"It is straight and strong and full of character. And Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, ... thy teeth are like a flock of sheep ... which come up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins."
"That's very swell, indeed," said Fancy, "is it original?"
He laughed. "No. It's from one of the oldest poems in the world."
"I'd like to read that book." Fancy was getting drowsy. "Tell me some more."
"Thine head upon thee is like Carmel..."
"I'm glad we're getting into California at last."
"And the hair of thine head like purple;—"
She shook her head, "Oh, no, don't call it purple, please. Frank says it's Romanesque."
"Thy neck is as a tower of ivory."
"That's the second tower," said Fancy, closing her eyes, "I guess that'll be about all for the towers. I think I'd rather have you make it up as you go along. It's more complimentary." She laid her head upon her arms on the table. "My ears are really something fierce, aren't they?"