She is rather accomplished, to be sure. She may not paint tables nor cover screens, yet she does endure the pianoforte with a varying degree of affection.
She may not pen a pretty sonnet, but her rendering of pastoral scenes, particulary during Sunday sermons, are nothing short of illuminating.
She improves her mind through extensive reading and added to this, possesses a certain something in her air and manner of walking. But please overlook the slipshod nature of her bedchamber...t'would be the ruin of us all!
And when, perchance, this shy creature happens upon a volleyball, why she gathers momentum in the most demure manner and drills it into oblivion with the force of a cold blooded assassin.
