Wine gave a sort of gallantry to their own failure.

In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.

Never miss a party...good for the nerves--like celery.

interested, I mean, with that intense personal interest to which every one has some vague right at the end

Lie to me by the moonlight. Do a fabulous story.

You are the loveliest thing that I have ever known.

They were still in the happier stage of love. They were full of brave illusions about each other, tremendous illusions, so that the communion of self with self seemed to be on a plane where no other human relations mattered. They both seemed to have arrived there with an extraordinary innocence as though a series of pure accidents had driven them together, so many accidents that at last they were forced to conclude that they were for each other. They had arrived with clean hands, or so it seemed, after no traffic with the merely curious and clandestine.