“Which, taken from the point of view of the nutshell, was your reputation.”
“Not at all. I have no reputation. I am above it.”
“And what did your husband say about this extensive handshaking?”
“He never said a word. But I think he was very cut up about the empress, he thought her so rude. And when she refused to look at me all the other women did too, and it made me quite low-spirited, because however much one likes the society of men, one always values the society of women, especially after they turn nasty. At last I could stand it no longer, therefore I came home and began to cry. After a while some of my friends called to see me, and we had the merriest evening possible, for we sent slaves to collect all the tears I had dropped on the way from earth to hell, and then we went on to the highest turret of the palace and threw them back on the earth again.”
“Indeed.”
“Yes. And the women who had spurned me gathered them up quickest, because they looked like glistening diamonds. And now they wear them, and when they wear them the men fall in love with them, and the women turn their backs on them, and sometimes they can’t understand it, but it is so.”
Suddenly her voice changed from the monotone to one of bright and laughing interest.
“Now give me a criticism on my story of shaking hands with royalty,” she challenged.
“A cool criticism?” I asked.
“If you can,” she answered, laughing.