I did not peep, I gazed at the grasshopper.
I was uninhibited: I used to watch at girls who always thought they were too pretty, or I was no match for them. They kept their ego flying high, as high as a kite; what if the kite line broke? This was, anyway, a past story in which the girls turned their head away disdainfully.
This grasshopper must be a girl.
She did the same trick that failed to discourage me, just like in those olden days.
This was what had happened, in this morning. I was in no hurry, yet everything was accomplished. Perfect.