"And nothing else?"
"Only my various means of support. And my respectability."
Regina laughed her tiger-on-the-third-Christian laugh. "What I want to find out," she said, "is how you manage the respectability bit."
It dawned on me while I was grinding the pepper for Clay's salad that Regina had explained herself. All of a sudden I saw straight through her and I wondered why I hadn't seen it before. Regina envied me.
Now on the face of it, that seemed unlikely. But it occurred to me that Regina's parents had been the poor but honest and uneducated sort that simply are never asked to chaperone school parties. And the fact is that they were not what Regina thought of as respectable, though it never occurred to anyone but her that it mattered. And since all her culture was acquired after the age of thirteen, she felt it didn't fit properly and that's why she went out of her way to be arty-arty.
Whereas I took for granted all the things Regina had learned so painstakingly, and this in turn was what made me so irritatingly respectable.
As Regina had suggested, perhaps it is the expression on one's face that makes the difference.
"Hey!" a cop yelled, pulling up as close to us as his rotors would allow. "What the hell?"
"I beg your pardon," I said frigidly. It is very frigid in November if you are out in a helicopter dressed only in a boudoir slip.