"And he contemplated her absorbed young face with a thrill of possessorship in which pride in his own masculine initiation was mingled with a tender reverence for her abysmal purity. "We'll read Faust together . . . by the Italian lakes . . ." he thought, somewhat hazily confusing the scene of his projected honey-moon with the masterpieces of literature which it would be his manly privilege to reveal to his bride."
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence (1920)
I started this today and am beyond delighted. I had to pause when I read this bit, though, because I laughed until I was crying and wheezing.