“Sh’o, dair’s nothin’ so much in dat.”
“As a young girl of eight (Tee-hee!), I was distracting to all the gentlemen,” Mrs. Mouth asserted, confiding a smile to a small, long-billed bird, in a cage, of the variety known as Bequia-Sweet.
“How I wish I’d been born, like you, in August-Town, across de Isthmus!”
“It gib me dis taste fo’ S’ciety, Chile.”
“In S’ciety, don’ dey dress wid clothes on ebery day?”
“Sh’o; surtainly.”
“An’ don’t dey nebba tickle?”
“In August-Town, de aristocracy conceal de best part ob deir bodies; not like heah!”
“An’ tell me, Mammee ...? De first lover you eber had ... was he half as handsome as Bamboo?”