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    Summary

    He could marry her. The thought came to him idly one morning, as he waged his daily struggle to make sense of it all. Grace Marks was the only woman he had ever met who he would want to marry. He rolled the thought over in his mind, let the truth of it settle in. She was beautiful, of course, her profile Grecian, her complexion porcelain, her eyes clear and wide and penetrating. She did not make eye contact freely, her gaze often directed downwards as she worked, her head bowed in a posture of studied submission and respect. But every so often she would lift that head on its lovely neck and fix him with that steady, frank expression; or cock her head quizzically and study him, as though he were a puzzle she was trying to solve; or glance up at him slyly through her eyelashes, a shadow of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she silently laughed at his ignorance of some domestic feminine mystery. In these moments he wanted to prostrate himself at her feet.

    Language:
    English
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