Now that's what I like.

We poor actresses have so much would-be love in the course of our lives, that a little friendship now and then is a novelty which other and soberer people can never appreciate.

On reading Gil Blas the other day--I am no great reader, as you may remember--I was struck by that part in which the dear Santillane assures us that there was never any love between him and Laura the actress.

I thought it so true to nature, so probable, that they should have formed so strong an intimacy for each other, lived in the same house, had every opportunity for love, yet never loved.

And it was exactly because she was an actress, and a light good-for-nothing creature that it so happened; the very multiplicity of lovers prevented her falling in love; the very carelessness of her life, poor girl, rendered a friend so charming to her.