“How can I express my love of flowers except by saying that I adore them?” questioned the exquisite Angeline. “They are, with me, a passion, and, do you know, I can gauge a man’s devotion by the way he sends me flowers. If he spends more than his salary—he loves me. If he spends only his salary, I know that he is cold.”
ANGELINE’S ADORABLE ADIEU
It was with real regret that our interviewer rose to take his leave of the dancing idol. The great diva, reclining on the great divan, had given us such a charming close-up of her soul that, for a moment, we felt specially privileged. And then, a fatal moment! we noted, behind the arras, and protruding beyond the lower right-hand cushion, a smartly shod male foot—a well-rounded male knee, and we realized instinctively that others beside ourselves had found Mlle. Etoille—adorable.
