It has something to do with the fact that my Mom had them when she was only seventeen. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. “You are afraid,” she said, “that the young man who thinks that he is my husband has upset me. Why, there was drama in the very dress she wore! There was drama in the unusual beauty of her, hidden away all these years on a forgotten isle! "You've been lonely, too.
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