NO COMMENT

NO COMMENT"Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one's life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; Perhaps it crept to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways; Perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music; Perhaps... perhaps.... love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath." - L. M. Montgomery, from Anne of Avonlea