of the vague but eternal charm of her boyish 
breast. 
Worn out perhaps, but not weary, and al-
ways heroic, she makes one think of those 
splendid thoroughbreds which the eye of the 
true lover of horses can recognize even in the 
shafts of a cab or a dray. 
And then she is so sweet and fervent; she 
loves as one loves in autumn; one would say 
that the approach of winter kindles a new fire 
in her heart, and the servility of her tenderness 
has no element that might weary one therein.