A young lady's most natural ally is her sister although sometimes our own relatives are as inscrutable to us as an antipodean.

After Henry's treatment of her she wasn't sure that men could honestly love women but she wanted to believe it. She wanted to be told pretty things and for the frightening clip of her heart to slow to something more reasonable.

All really interesting girls invent themselves.

He was just like summer, and she loved summer. If she had any wish, it would be to live a lifetime of summers.

She found herself longing for home-not just for the hotel but for New York and all the real novels that she could lose herself in there.

Henry shook his head, 'I was drunk,' he said, trying to sound both ashamed and firm in this belief. He remembered the rosebush incident very clearly, of course, but he knew that sneaking into the bedroom window of his fiancee's little sister wasn't something he wanted to explain to his father. Sometimes, Henry reflected, being taken for a perpetual drunk was sort of convenient.

Girls," their mother interjected, "you must both stop being strange - it is unattractive. And don't forget your hats. It would be absolutely the end for me if you two came down with freckles at a time like this.