What Have We All Got To Expect

Lies Had Deserted Me, And I Felt As Lonely As Though They Had Been My Only Friends.

With Your Great Schemes, You Ruin Our Happiness Like A Harvester Ruins A Mouse's Nest: I Hate You, God, I Hate You As Though You Existed.

American Bankers Believe In The Personal Touch; The Teller Conveys A Sense That He Happens To Be There Accidentally And He Is Overjoyed At The Lucky Chance Of The Encounter.

Like The Characters In Chekhov, They Have No Reserves -– You Learn The Most Intimate Secrets. You Get An Impression Of A World Peopled By Eccentrics, Of Odd Professions, Almost Incredible Stupidities, And, To Balance Them, Amazing Endurances.

...and Yet Could Swear It Was Just Then That I Fell In Love. It Wasn't, Of Course, Simply The Onions -- It Was The Sudden Sense Of An Individual Woman, Of A Frankness That Was So Often Later To Make Me Happy And Miserable.