I´ve got this from a single chapter, just to prove my point:
Poor Tilda cannot help it, of course - it is the shape of her head. When standing behind her, I have noticed a decided protrusion on the right at the baseline of the crown. Self-Esteem, Self-Love, all the selfish sentiments.
He nodded, slowly. What a perfectly shaped head his is, beneath the stovepipe police-hat! Everything in proportion; the subjective and the objective. You do not come across a specimen like that every day. Especially not combined with a handsome face and open heart.
Lifting myself from the bed, I go to my dressing table and tidy my hair. "I shall continue visiting Ruth Butterham," I tell the girl in the mirror. I might find Ruth distasteful, and the memories of Mama´s death hard to bear, but there is fruit to be reaped. I can bring her to salvation, and she can ... give me her skull.
I get it! She likes skulls.
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8
