look, and she is forty-five and looks sixty and is twelve years out of Finland.
I am tallish and slim and weigh nine wavering stone.
The Finn woman is short and solid and weighs all of a hundred and seventy pounds.
I am slender of flank and ankle, narrow through the loins and bony at the shoulders.
The Finn woman is thick everywhere, broad of girth and deep of chest like a Percheron stallion.
I am darkish with dusky gray eyes.
Josephina is dirty-blond with pale narrow blue eyes like a china doll's.
My sex feels to me like a mysterious sweetness.
Josephina's sex looks porcinely obvious and uninteresting like her large dubious breasts.
I am inwardly full of strong-flavored emotions.
The one positive outward feeling Josephina manifests is a dull but comprehensive hatred, peculiar to her nationality and station, for everything Swedish.
The Finn woman has a husband now and had a different one formerly.
I have none and never had.
Josephina is elemental primeval woman.
So am I but terrifically qualified by complexity, incongruity.
I have white smooth firm beautiful hands.
Josephina's hands are particularly ugly and have a
