to be a good sort of man, but appearances are so deceitful in this wicked world!
She — "Ah, yes, monsieur, I have a nice little house. Let me beg of you to wait a moment until I open the other door, so that you can enter my parlor."
He — "But what is the rent of the house?"
She — (in a voice sweeter than the sweetest honey) — "One minute! —this way, monsieur — come in; be seated, if you please."
He — "But what is the rent of —"
She (shutting the door, and placing herself before it like a statue of animated bronze, and suddenly changing the sweet voice for a deep and extraordinarily vibrant alto) — "Ah, now, monsieur, let us at once understand one another. I have a nice little house. Good! You want a nice little house. Good! Let us understand one another. In the first place, I do not
