[…] she was indeed Amanda in the flesh: a doughty chatterbox from Ohio who adopted the manner of a Southern belle and eschewed both drink and sex to the greatest extent possible.
The crowd may generally have been ill-disposed toward arena performers, but that could change depending on what was going on at any given time.
As we passed through the quadrangle the church was glowing more brightly than a pearl, like a lily in strong sunlight, in spite of all the scaffolding and hugger-mugger.
The children spent more time in their imaginary “kingdoms, empires, domains, dukedoms, and marsquisdoms … and—oh yes! Duchessdoms,” and talked for hours about what to name their castles and realms.
