If your Nana neither sings nor acts you'll find you've made a blunder, that's all.

It's what I'm afraid of, if the truth be told." "A blunder! A blunder!" shouted the manager, and his face grew purple.
"Must a woman know how to act and sing?
Oh, my chicken, you're too STOOPID.

Nana has other good points, by heaven!--something which is as good as all the other things put together.

I've smelled it out; it's deuced pronounced with her, or I've got the scent of an idiot.

You'll see, you'll see! She's only got to come on, and all the house will be gaping at her." He had held up his big hands which were trembling under the influence of his eager enthusiasm, and now, having relieved his feelings, he lowered his voice and grumbled to himself: "Yes, she'll go far! Oh yes, s'elp me, she'll go far! A skin--oh, what a skin she's got!" Then as Fauchery began questioning him he consented to enter into a detailed explanation, couched in phraseology so crude that Hector de la Faloise felt slightly disgusted.