She held out her full, round arm, on the surface of which was spread that light and charming down, symbol of maturity. I applied the wet sponge.
“Oh! oh! oh!” exclaimed the Baroness; “it is like ice, a regular shower-bath, and you want to put that all over me?”
Just then there was a knock at the door which led out of the Baron’s dressing-room, and instinctively I turned toward it.
“Who’s there? Oh! you are letting it splutter all over me!” exclaimed the Baroness. “You can’t come in; what is it?”
“What is the matter, aunt?”
“You can’t come in,” exclaimed some one behind the screen; “my cuirass has split. Marie, Rosine, a needle and thread, the gum.”
“Oh! there is a stream all down my back, your horrid white is running down,” said the Baroness, in a rage.
“I will wipe it. I am really very sorry.”
“Can you get your hand down my back, do you think?”
“Why not, aunt?”