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Updated: May 4, 2025
When she thought of Joe, the Joe instantly visualized on her mind was a clothed Joe girl-cheeked, blue-eyed, curly- headed, but clothed. And there he stood, all but naked, godlike, in a white blaze of light. She had never conceived of the form of God except as nebulously naked, and the thought-association was startling. It seemed to her that her sin partook of sacrilege or blasphemy.
Her clear- eyed, girl-cheeked Joe might be anything but a prize-fighter. She had never seen one, but he in no way resembled her conception of what a prize- fighter must be the human brute with tiger eyes and a streak for a forehead. Of course she had heard of Joe Fleming who in West Oakland had not? but that there should be anything more than a coincidence of names had never crossed her mind.
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