Waiting alone in the now-familiar confines of Julie’s grass hut, with the quotidian far-off clamour of the playing fields wafting in from outside, Nelson thought once more of Rebecca Chaykin, the man who had taught her how to feel. He was now, according to that television program, dancing away the hot Rio nights with the sultry Igraine.
   Suddenly, came a flurry of activity, and she somehow knew that her heart had been right all along. He was here! “I’ve thought of you every minute I’ve been away, my angel — my porcelain angel!” he stated as the blood rose in his face and ears.
   Just then, the music in her heart rose to a new crescendo of happiness, and as the music in her heart rose to a new crescendo of happiness, she vowed never again to do anything spiteful, foolish or immature.