So you sing at your work. For
the work is part of the thoughts of your friend; so you love it!
Love is demanding and claiming and insistent. Friendship is all
kindness--it makes the world glorious with kindness. What color
you see when you walk with a friend! You see that the gray sky
is brilliant and shimmering; you see that the smoke has warm
browns and is marvelously sculptured--the air becomes iridescent.
You see the gold in brown hair. Light floods everything.
When you walk to church with a friend you know that life can give
you nothing richer. You pray that there will be no change in
anything for ever.
What an adorable thing it is to discover a little foible in your
friend, a bit of vanity that gives you one thing more about her to
adore! On a cold morning she will perhaps walk to church with you
without her furs, and she will blush and return an evasive answer
when you ask her why she does not wear them. You will say no
more, because you understand. She looks beautiful in her furs;
you love their darkness against her cheek; but you comprehend that
they conceal the loveliness of her throat and the fine line of her
chin, and that she also has comprehended this, and, wishing to
look still more bewitching, discards her furs at the risk of
taking cold.
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