The beauty of Meriken woman is in her shape.
I pray that my body may grow.
The Japanese theatre never begins without three rappings of time-honoured wooden blocks.
I knocked on the pitcher.
Miss Ada appeared from the dressing room, fluttering an open fan.
How ridiculously she stepped!
It was the way Miss What’s-her-name acted in “The Geisha,” she said.
She was much taller than little me. The kimono scarcely reached to her shoes. I have never seen such an absurd show in my life.
I was tittering.
The charming Ada fanned and giggled incessantly in supposed-to-be Japanese chic.