Now spent night her watchers spareth, / Now the sun's bright banner flareth, / Now morn's gale day's trump is blowing.

We never see each other, but have been sending love letters every Valentine's Day for 10 years.

Jen: Douglas has asked me to be his PA. Moss: Oh. My. God! Well, that is something and a half. His PA? How... Whoa! His PA... Shut up! His PA! Jen: It means personal assistant. Moss: Thank you. Right, OK.

[…] looking up a long while at the grand high roof with its graceful and multitudinous work of iron rods, angles, gray colors, plays of light and shade, receding into dim outlines […]