he sets out to disentangle a human being from every dream of the freshness and the grace and otherworldliness that she first exposed to him (it could not have been intentional)
What does he really know of this would-be muse? What did this silly boy really glimpse of her being as she sat reading (quietly) curled up under a tree by herself (also, she sang like a nightingale)
Has he more than a memory of her, at the aquarium, gazing cat-like at the pretty fishes floating by, while he stood back secretly admiring the grace of her movement, and her long black braid? (his hair may be longer than hers now, you know)
Is it fair (to her) that the roots of all his inspiration grow so near to his memory (of her), that eleven years later, half an ounce of her esteem should have him walking on air, for the better part of a week?