ItwasBeatricewhoinsisteduponourmeeting。
IamcertainIknewquitealotaboutloveatfourteenandthatI
wasquiteasmuchinlovewithBeatricethenasanyimpassionedadultcouldbe，andthatBeatricewas，inherway，inlovewithme。Itispartofthedecentandusefulpretencesofourworldthatchildrenoftheageatwhichwewere，thinknothing，feelnothing，knownothingoflove。ItiswonderfulwhatpeopletheEnglishareforkeepinguppretences。ButindeedIcannotavoidtellingthatBeatriceandItalkedofloveandkissedandembracedoneanother。
Irecallsomethingofonetalkundertheoverhangingbushesoftheshrubbery——Iontheparksideofthestonewall，andtheladyofmyworshipalittleinelegantlyastridethereon。InelegantlydoIsay？youshouldhaveseenthesweetimpasIrememberher。
Justherpoiseonthewallcomessuddenlyclearbeforeme，andbehindherthelightvariousbranchesofthebushesoftheshrubberythatmyfeetmightnotprofane，andfarawayandhighbehindher，dimandstately，thecorniceofthegreatfacadeofBladesoverroseagainstthedappledsky。Ourtalkmusthavebeenseriousandbusiness-like，forwewerediscussingmysocialposition。