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Did I love her for her mind? I know her mind. I know her body. Though her mind is more complex, her body is more accommo- dating. In her body I see none of the hard, fast obstinacies that sometimes frustrate me. In her body I see only an elegance and a spareness, an odd grace particular to women of her type. Hers is the kind of figure that some would call boyish, causing in her an odd sort of wistfulness with their carelessness. Long legs that have a curve of softness at the calf before tapering into an impossibly slender ankle. Prominent bones at her shoul- ders, creating fascinating shadows. Pelvic bones that challenge the casual observer, a challenge I readily accepted. Small, soft breasts that she tries to camouflage by wearing clothes that swallow her. A tiny waist that troubles her at times, flowing into rounded, narrow hips. White, tender thighs.