I know where you have been spending your vacation, and how you have commenced sacrificing to the graces, and enjoying life like any other belle.

I saw you at the concert the other night, dressed, actually, like anybody else.

Who is your tailleuse ?" "Tittle-tattle: how prettily it begins! My tailleuse!--a fiddlestick! Come, sheer off, Ginevra.

I really don't want your company." "But when I want yours so much, ange farouche, what does a little reluctance on your part signify?
Dieu merci! we know how to manoeuvre with our gifted compatriote--the learned 'ourse Britannique.' And so, Ourson, you know Isidore ?" "I know John Bretton." "Oh, hush!" (putting her fingers in her ears) "you crack my tympanums with your rude Anglicisms.

But, how is our well-beloved John?
Do tell me about him.