” They stared at each other through a pause, and both faces were flushed and obstinate. “I wonder,” she said, “how much you care. ” She paused for a moment. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. Acknowledge your faults. —Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724.
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