In fact, there are not many men who were ruined in the name of love. But it may be different for women. Here is another story told by the friend who is a policeman whom I mentioned before. Let him tell the story to us: There was one thing that surprised me greatly as I went into the yard for the policemen as a policeman for the first time years ago after I luckily passed the public servant test. I can remember it clearly. I draged my heavy luggage out from the car which sent us to the local police station. I just felt too excited and happy and curious. I took a glance at the yard . It was as I had thought of, except one matter: there was a young woman sitting on the swing .The woman was wearing police in uniform without police rank badges, several people came out of the room and greeted with me with smile on their face and came to help me. but that woman only sat on the swing and swang. What happened around her seemed had nothing with her. She just swang her swing in the warm afternoon sun. She seemed to be mentally disordered. "What's wrong with the woman? How could she wear like that and in a place like this?" I wondered .As time went on, little by little, I got to know something about that poor woman from my colleages.The woman was once a policewoman. She was beautiful and clever. When still in the police school there were a lot boys courting her, and she chose a handsome and eloquent boy she loved. Their love kept for years. It was not long before she was assigned to the station the time she thought she might get married with her darling, but her used darling refused her. The young man had had another girl as his fianceand and they would be husband and wife very soon. Over a young the pride princess turned into mad, and her family could not afford to cure her. She was insane at all.What is the end of the story? I do not know what that yong man is like I only know that the girl married a peasant far from the place our station located and the couple had a daughter. It is really sorry that the daughter is not as intelligent as her mother and not so good-looking, either. Is She probably alike her father? I have no idea.Now I can often see her sitting on the bench or the swing quietly like a good girl. Some woman would make fun of her. They ask her to knit for them, and she would knit and knit without stopping till others shouted at her: "it is too long. Stop knitting! It's OK!" and grab the sweater or something like that away and left her there along.