"I know you can't. Is it my fault?"
"When's your first novel coming out?"
"Sooner than you think," said Gabrie, brightening, but coughing violently.
"Will you put me into it?" said Regina, powdering herself spitefully. The white powder clouded even the looking-glass, and Regina thought—
"Gabrie must find me changed, and she'll be guessing the reason."
She knew she was cross, and felt vexed that she could not command herself. But Gabrie coughed on and made no reply. They went out together.
"Where are you going?" asked Regina.
"Home to my studies."
"Come with me. There'll be matter for an authoress's study. Imagine a room, with ten ladies, all mortal enemies, because each one is afraid she isn't so well dressed as the others!"
"In my books, if ever I write any, there'll be nothing so banal. It's useless for you to take me 'in giro.'"[8]