They were so good to me. She had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. "I give you one minute for reflection. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. They slow danced to a Bon Jovi ballad. I don’t believe in the faults. And the woollen-draper departed.
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