She looked at him, and though the light in which she saw him was little more than starlight, she saw that he was looking steadily at her with a kindly and smiling seriousness.

All at once it seemed to her that the night air was sweeter to breathe, as if a distant fragrance of new blossoms had been blown to her.

She smiled back to him, and said, "Well, what kind of man are you ?" "I don't know; I've often wondered," he replied.

"What kind of girl are you ?" "Don't you remember?
I told you the other day.

I'm just me!" "But who is that ?" "You forget everything;" said Alice.