“White he watched her, exotic words drifted across the mirror of his mind as summer clouds drift across the sky…He thought of myrrh and frankincense and potpourri – or was it patchouli? and of nameless mysterious fragrances; of sloes, and of clusters of purple grapes, each richly full of blood-red juices which spilled when you crushed them between your teeth…” (1944: 22, Williams) (Leave Her to Heaven by Ben Ames Williams was published 74 years ago today).
Thoughts on Papyrus 