If she has a
pretty foot, she will throw herself on a sofa with the coquettish
grace of a cat in the sunshine, her feet outstretched without your
feeling that her attitude is anything but the most charming model ever
given to a sculptor by lassitude.
"Only the perfect lady is quite at her ease in full dress; nothing
inconveniences her. You will never see her, like the woman of the
citizen class, pulling up a refractory shoulder-strap, or pushing down
a rebellious whalebone, or looking whether her tucker is doing its
office of faithful guardian to two treasures of dazzling whiteness, or
glancing in the mirrors to see if her head-dress is keeping its place.
Her toilet is always in harmony with her character; she had had time
to study herself, to learn what becomes her, for she has long known
what does not suit her. You will not find her as you go out; she
vanishes before the end of the play. If by chance she is to be seen,
calm and stately, on the stairs, she is experiencing some violent
emotion; she has to bestow a glance, to receive a promise. Perhaps she
goes down so slowly on purpose to gratify the vanity of a slave whom
she sometimes obeys.
Pages:
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65