"But I shall!" Fanny protested with tragic expression. "It's the frightful hypocrisy that's curdling my soul and ruining my insides. It makes one homesick for England, where people drink too much because they like it, and not to punish themselves for electing a government which conscientiously interprets the will of the people—and leaves them to interpret their wont."
"No dear, thanks." Smilingly Nelly Guest refused to let Jean fill her glass.
"The figure?" Jean enquired in deep sympathy.
"I've positively got to," Nelly sighed. She cast a rueful glance down over her plump, pretty person. "Compassionate Columbia simply must not waddle when she pokes her horn of plenty at famine-stricken China."
"Oh, that wretched pageant!" Lucinda roused from a lapse into communion with the Lucinda who made an unseen fifth. "When is it? I'd forgotten all about it." Nelly Guest named a day two weeks in the future. "And I haven't even thought about my costume! Oh, why do we punish ourselves so for Charity's sweet sake?"
"Because deep down in our hearts we all like to parade our virtues."
"Much virtue in that plural," Nelly Guest commented.
"Well, I don't like parading mine in pageants, I assure you."
"Don't you, honestly, Cindy?" Fanny asked. "I should think you'd love that sort of thing. You used to be perfectly mad about acting."
"So is every woman—isn't she?—at one stage or another of her life convinced she's truly a great actress cheated out of her birthright."