I'd Give a Million Dollars if I Could Make Bram Talk

Philip rain was stumped by his new companion. He asked her to give him an idea of who she was and where she came from. She smiled at him, something pathetically sweet in that smile. Her braid slipped over her shoulder; he had never dreamed a woman's hair could hold such soft fires of velvety gold. The name Celie armine seemed like a french name but Philip couldn't understand it. Then the girl said: "I am celie armine," with both hands at her breast. Philip repeated the name as he stirred the potatoes for breakfast.

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