I sat in a memorial corner of my cave, with an unfinished novel of my wife’s.
I do judge she had flashes of genius. She was so deep, like the sky. I never suspected that she could gracefully have beaten George Eliot, if she had only survived.
Poor girl!
One tenderly loved by God passes away young.
I have fallen into the habit of crying unmanfully nowadays.
I cannot help it, can I?
G
One thing I must furnish is a bathroom.
Cleanliness is the first rule of heaven, I am told.
I went to the lily pond to take a gracious bath.