"Saturday, February 13. I have met along the river that girl June m'aveva informed and as I was waiting outside the house closed ... I have spoken. While I walked, I considered a glimpse of the subtle defects of his face: a little wrinkle at the corner of the lips, cheeks a bit 'limp, a bit' of powder accumulated on wings of the nose. Hath been suddenly turned and, looking straight in the face, perhaps because it is the most beautiful face in profile, with a firm voice said to me: 'I really enjoy her. It reminds me of a young man who once, in Bourges, I was courting. It was indeed my boyfriend ... '"
From" The Grand Meaulnes "by Alain-Fournier, 1913,
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