"Heaven help us," said Orlando, standing at the window and watching the pigeons at their pranks. "What a world we live in! What a world to be sure." Its complexities amazed her. It now seemed to her that the whole world was ringed with gold. She went to dinner. Wedding rings abounded. She went to church. Wedding rings were everywhere. She drove out. Gold, or pinchbeck, thin, thick, plain, smooth, they glowed dully on every hand.
We lie back to back. Curtains lift and fall, like the chest of someone sleeping. Wind moves the leaves of the box elder; they show their light undersides, turning all at once like a school of fish. Suddenly I understand that I am happy. For months this feeling has been coming closer, stopping for short visits, like a timid suitor.