human
Undoubtedly, he owned to himself,
gpt
I think more of her than I usually do of women, because I never before cared a hang what their feelings were toward other men. I must have been mistaken in thinking there was anything between her and Mead. Her heart is as fresh as her face, and I can go in and take it, and feel there have been no predecessors, if I want to. Do I want to? I don't know. She's handsome and she's got a stunning figure. Her feet aren't pretty, but they would look better if she didn't wear such clumsy shoes. Well, I'd see that she didn't. She seems to be sweet and gentle and sympathetic, and the sort of woman that would be absorbed in her husband and his interests. She's overfond of flattery, moral, mental and physical. Gets that from Frenchy, I suppose, for you can start him strutting like a rooster any time with a dozen words. But that isn't much of a fault in a wife, after all, for if a fellow can only remember about it it's the easiest way in the world to keep a woman happy. Well, I'll think about it. There are no rivals in the field, and it will be time enough to decide when I make my next visit to Las Plumas.