Sometimes when my mind seems to have wandered infinitely far from her I realize suddenly that ’tis she who holds it enthralled. Whatsoever I see in Boston or in the vision of the wide world my judgment of it is prejudiced in ways by the existence of my friend Annabel Lee--the more so that it’s mostly unconscious prejudice. Annabel Lee’s is an intense personality--one meets with intense personalities now and again, in children or in bull-dogs or in persons like my friend Annabel Lee. And I never tire of looking at Annabel Lee, and I never tire of listening to her, and I never tire of thinking about her. And thinking of her, my mind grows wistful. II THE FLAT SURFACES OF THINGS “There are moments,” said my friend Annabel Lee, “when, willy nilly, they must all come out upon the flat surfaces of things. “They look deep into the green water as the sun goes down, and their mood is heavy. Their heart aches, and they shed no tears. They look out over the brilliant waves as the sun comes up, and their mood is light-hearted and they enjoy the moment. Or else their heart aches at the rising and their mood is light-hearted at the setting. But let it be one or the other, there are bland moments when they see nothing but flat surfaces. If they find all at once, by a little accident, that their best-loved is a traitor friend, and they go at the sun’s setting and gaze deep into the green water, and all is dark and dead as only a traitor best-beloved can make it, and their mood is very heavy--still there is a bland moment when their stomach tells them they are hungry, and they listen to it. It is the flat surface. After weeks, or it may be days, according to who they are, their mood will not be heavy--yet still their stomach will tell them they are hungry, and they will listen. If their best-loved cease to be, suddenly--that is bad for them, oh, exceeding bad; they suffer, and it takes weeks for them to recover, and the mark of the wound never wears away. But with time’s encouraging help they do recover. But if,” said my friend Annabel Lee, “their stomach should cease to be, not only would they suffer--they would die--and whither away? That is a flat surface and a very truth. And when they consider it--for one bland moment--they laugh gently and cease to have a best-loved, entirely; they cease to fill their veins with red, red life; they become like unto mice--mice with long slim tails. “For one bland moment. “And, too, the bland moment is long enough for them to feel restfully, deliciously, but unconsciously, thankful that there are these flat surfaces to things and that they can thus roll at times out upon them. “They roll upon the flat surfaces much as a horse rolls upon the flat prairie where the wind is. “And when for the first time they fall in love, if their belt is too tight there will come a bland moment when they will be aware that their belt is thus tight--and they will not be aware of much else.