Sublime

Grace Macaulay, then: seventeen, small and plump, with skin that went brown by the end of May. Her hair was black and oily, and had the hot consoling scent of an animal in summer. She disliked books, and was by nature a thief if she found a thing to be beautiful, but not hers. She didn’t know she couldn’t sing. She was inclined to be cross.

Here was evidently a people highly skilled, efficient, caring for their country as a florist cares for his costliest orchids.

he produced another tribute,

Here goes for Herland!"

"I never saw a forest so petted,

she cared most to hear about,

Terry's smile