Well, my boy, they're jolly well in the dark about it, I can tell you!
When I want to be a perfect lady, why then I am a swell, and no mistake!
Just look at this."
And she withdrew as far as the window and then came swelling back with
the mincing gait and circumspect air of a portly hen that fears to dirty
her claws. As to Muffat, he followed her movements with eyes still wet
with tears. He was stupefied by this sudden transition from anguish
to comedy. She walked about for a moment or two in order the more
thoroughly to show off her paces, and as she walked she smiled subtlely,
closed her eyes demurely and managed her skirts with great dexterity.
Then she posted herself in front of him again.
"I guess I've hit it, eh?"
"Oh, thoroughly," he stammered with a broken voice and a troubled
expression.
"I tell you I've got hold of the honest woman! I've tried at my own
place. Nobody's got my little knack of looking like a duchess who don't
care a damn for the men. Did you notice it when I passed in front of
you? Why, the thing's in my blood! Besides, I want to play the part of
an honest woman. I dream about it day and night--I'm miserable about it.
I must have the part, d'you hear?"
And with that she grew serious, speaking in a hard voice and looking
deeply moved, for she was really tortured by her stupid, tiresome wish.
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