Ever since Lady Beresford's maid first took me in to see her dressed out in white crape, and corn-ears, and scarlet poppies, and I ran a needle down into my finger, and broke it in, and she tore up her worked pocket-handkerchief, after they'd cut it out, and came in to wet the bandages again with lotion when she returned from the ball--where she'd been the prettiest young lady of all--I've never loved any one like her. 
Ever since Lady Beresford's maid first took me in to see her, and I ran a needle into my finger, and she tore up her pocket-handkerchief for bandages, I've never loved anyone like her. 