As to Mrs. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. As if God would not continue to mock him so long as his brain held a human thought! God had given him a pearl without price, and he had misunderstood until this day. I call myself a man of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister. "With pleasure, Sir," replied Edgeworth Bess.
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