I remember  nig in a tender, delicious ecstasy of excitement, my burning c t mimicking t of t pistons ceaselessly ting train t bore me t, aude of my motment, into try of marriage.

    And I remember I tenderly imagined  t, my mot t beting atle relics, tumbled garments I  need any more, trunks, t programmes Id abandoned; sorn ribbon and t faded pograpions of a  of my bridal triump a pang of loss as if, o be her child in becoming his wife.

    Are you sure, sic box t  me, issue paper and red ribbon like a Cmas gift of crystallised fruit. Are you sure you love oo; black silk, ic ser, finer turous girler of a ricea planter. My eagle-featured indomitable mot otudent at toire could boast t faced a junkful of Ces; nursed a village tation of t a man-eating tiger h her own hand and all before she was as old as I?

    quot;Are you sure you love ;

    quot;Im sure I  to marry ; I said.

    And ance t s at last banisre of poverty from its ual place at our meagre table. For my motly beggared  soldier never returned from tears t never quite dried, a cigar box full of medals and tique service revolver t my motly eccentric in  always in icule, in case -- eased pads on he grocers shop.

    Noarburst of ligtered t up all tations tion of tin nig been ss  ed breasts and s of er, and noeasingly caressed me, egregious, insinuating, nudging beted restlessly in my narroongue and teet and a rasp of beard ed to me, te tact as tdress , il ral bed in t, pinnacled domain t lay, stil