““As I followed Elsie back along the riverbank, I brushed my fingertips against the silky catkins on the willow trees and wished Daddy had failed the medical examination too. I stopped now and then to collect interesting-looking pebbles that clacked together satisfyingly in my pockets, and to pick the pretty wildflowers: stitchwort and ragwort, silverweed and harebell, lady's purse and cinquefoil. Elsie told me their names. As we walked, I repeated them over and over so I wouldn't forget them, storing them away like precious gems to admire again later, in private.””
