Sweet May stood putting on her last venereal Touches while Patience Scalpel held forth in that divine and ethereal Voice for which she was noted, the Voice of one whose Ankles are nibbled by the Cherubs, while amid the Rugs Dame Musset brought Doll Furious to a certainty.
“What”, said Patience Scalpal, “can you women see in each other? Where is the Parting of the Ways and the Horseman that hunts? Where”, she reflected, “there is Prostitution and Drunkeness, there is bound to be Immorality, or I do not count the Times, but what is this?”
“And”, said Dame Musset, rising in Bed, “that’s all there is, and there is no more!”
“But oh !” cried Doll.
“Down Woman”, said Dame Musset in her friendliest, “there may be a mustard seed!”