Perhaps he’d find some rustic charm in it, as he apparently found some rustic charm in Antonina. Valérie, reared watchfully like a flower in a hothouse, could not see any prettiness in Antonina; her luxuriant qualities were to her an affront. It was like staring at a weed. Her upbringing made her want to stab it with a spade, stomp on it quick, lest it contaminate the garden.
