167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face. "Out of the twelve hundred subjects I've tucked up, I may safely place half to his account. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. You’re such a strange girl. Woof! What a dog.
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