Page "belles_lettres" Paragraph 1214

It wasn't hard to understand.

To me Lilly was a fine and lovely girl.

To people who didn't know her she was a gawky, badly dressed kid whose arms were too long, whose legs were a little too bony.

She had the hips of a boy and a loose-jointed walk that reminded me of a string of beads strolling down the street.

And she had the kind of crossed eyes that shocked.

It was unexpected, unexpected because Lilly walked with her head bent down, down, and her mark of friendship was to look into your face.

I accepted her crossed eyes as she accepted my childishness ; ;

childishness compared to her grown-up understanding that life was a punishment for as yet undisclosed sins.

We were almost the same age, she was fifteen, I was twelve, and where I felt there was a life to look forward to Lilly felt she had had as much of it as was necessary.