I spent more time studying Florence than loving her, I suppose.

And yet I ought to have loved her; she was such a good girl.

Always perfect in her lessons, she was so modest that she recited in a noticeable tremor, and had to be told frequently to raise her voice.

Florence wore her light brown hair brushed flatly back and braided in a single plait, at a time when pompadours were six inches high and braids hung in pairs.

Florence had a pocket in her dress for her handkerchief, in a day when pockets were repugnant to fashion.