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Show 82 "Thank you!" She seemed genuinely pleased. When she smiled up at him, her lashes shadowed the high curve of her cheeks. "You're Karl Kerner, aren't you? I stayed in the classroom to eat lunch so that I'd have a chance to read all the papers. I was quite interested in yours, Karl. Would you remind remaining after school? I'd like to suggest something to you." "Sure," he said, adding "Miss Petrov" when he realized how low-brow "Sure" sounded. He became aware of a sweet scent rising toward him. It wasn't the zinnias -- he'd carried the zinnias all the way from home and he knew their pungent smell. The fragrance was much nicer, like violets, and it came from Miss Petrov herself. Karl breathed deeply, then backed away from her desk when Miss Petrov looked inquiringly at him. At exactly one o'clock Miss Petrov stood up in front of the class. "Young ladies and gentlemen," she began, "we're going to start our study of English literature with the Shakespearean sonnets. They are poems about love." A low rustle filled the room at the word "love," a blend of seat twitchings, foot shufflings, whispers, and suppressed sighs, which indicated that the sophomores found the topic beguiling. "The Shakespearean sonnets," Miss Petrov continued, "aren't only about the joy of love freely given and accepted, they're also about the pain of love rejected. But before we begin to read the first sonnet in our book, I'll tell you something about the life of William Shakespeare." |