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ELISE
Coiffeuse
Yes! I know Madame
She asked for me
And she's a millionaire
But I hate her smell.
You said yourself the last time she was in
'Twas like a polecat—
An' she's got sunken tubs to every chamber,
I heard her tell it—
A facial! And curl her hair!
Gawd!
The thermometer's a hundred.
You say
If I don't do it I can go!
Where'd I go in August?. . .
No I wouldn't,
That's where you get off.
This way Mrs. Smith
There's a breeze that's blowing by this window.
Let me have your hat,
Sailors are so smart with linen suits.
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