"Don't be a goose! A person is either a lady or she isn't, but she may be frightfully entertaining and fascinating all the same."
"Yes, that has the hall-mark of truth. There are cases in history. Miss Dolly Daydream, for example, of the Frivolity Theatre."
Mrs. Arbuthnot reproved me for the levity with which I treated a grave issue. Upon the receipt of my apology she regaled me with the astounding fact that Mrs. Fitz looked down on the English.
"Is it conceivable?" said I, the picture of incredulity.
"Really and truly she does. Quite laughs at us. Says we are so stupid—so bête, that's her word. And she says we are so conceited. She seems to think we have very little education in the things that really matter."
"Is she old-fashioned enough to believe that there is anything that really matters?"
"In a way she does."
"How antediluvian! What does she believe it is that really matters?"
"She seems to think it's the soul."
"Dear me! I hope you made it clear to her that that part of the Englishman's anatomy is never mentioned in good society?"