I became crazy and no one noticed: the face of Louise Armour was
filling the world to overflowing. There was nothing more than
she. I was less than the air that was bathing this face, less
than the light that richocheted on her. The eyes of Louise Amour
were two jewels of brown flame, golden, they seemed like two nuts, set
into the oval of pale skin, rounded child-like to the cheeks like the
petals of a lily. A true marvel.