Frank stood outside of Margaret's tent, his heart racing. He could hardly wait to give her the pearls he'd bought from the peddler. He was so excited that he could have burst and when he was finally allowed in, he stopped to admire her from the doorway. She was wearing the sweater; the black sweater that he loved so much. When he slipped the string of pearls around her neck, her reaction was everything he'd hoped it would be. And the sight of her wearing the pearls was something to be cherished. She looked even more beautiful than his wife.