admitted in spite of their dissolute and unhygienic tendencies. Yes,"
Mrs. Haggage added, meditatively, "our literature is undoubtedly
acquiring a more elevated tone; at last we are shaking off the
scintillant and unwholesome influence of the French."
"Ah, the French!" sighed Mr. Kennaston; "a people who think depravity
the soul of wit! Their art is mere artfulness. They care nothing for
Nature."
"No," Mrs. Haggage assented; "they prefer nastiness.
All
French