“Maybe we better go outside for ventilated air,” I snuggest.
“Ah no!” she otter. “Let me faint where I am. If I went out I might lose my seat.”
But I feel otherwisely. I would rather drink my beer in some saloon where thoughts are more pure. So I elope outside, leaving Hon. Aunt to shock by herself. There was so many Presbyterian clergymans coming inward that I was nearly scrunshed in going outward. Yet I manage to get to lobbed door outside.
By Boxed Office I notice Hon. Moses Feldspar, the management, talking to Chief of Police and other press agents.
“You are less ashamed than formerly,” I narrate hashly.
“Why should I feel ashamed of employing Truth among my actresses?” he snagger.
“I never saw Truth behave so careless!” I dib.
“She are most truthful when naked,” he exclam.
“She are,” I renig for scorns. “But when Hon. Stage Manager dress her in X ray skirt she appear entirely dishonest.”
Hoping you are the same,