Not a word shall I breathe of her tall stillness, her impeccable calm. Not a syllable on the subject of her long fall of dark, dark hair. Not a single sound regarding her astonishing sense of aesthetics. Her gardens. Her elegance. Her subdued wit. Not a single word on the subject, my oath.
no subject
[ A bow; he touches his forelock. ]
Not a word shall I breathe of her tall stillness, her impeccable calm. Not a syllable on the subject of her long fall of dark, dark hair. Not a single sound regarding her astonishing sense of aesthetics. Her gardens. Her elegance. Her subdued wit. Not a single word on the subject, my oath.