that from nineteen to thirty-one, I impersonated, an average of one evening a week, a French doll-baby. Some remarks, however, even down to my middle forties, indicated that some suspected the truth about my sexual life. But I never betrayed that life to any of my business associates excepting three or four confidants, who—I must explain—were mere Platonic friends. I was too much ashamed to ape the woman before those acquainted with my intellectual accomplishments. The following are samples of remarks of office associates:
"Good morning, Baby!"
"Grinning kid!"
"You look like a frightened bunny!" (While being teased. I was always the favorite subject for teasing by full-fledged males. In school, university, and office (the latter down to my middle forties only) they teased me as they would a girl. Moreover, my face expresses my emotions in an uncommon manner.)
"Your breasts are certainly beauts! You must be half woman!"
"Look, Ralph, Ed is throwing kisses at you!"
"Ralph, I was just going to ask you for a kiss!"
"Ralph, you are nothing but a child half-a-century old!" (When impressed by my childish grimaces and childlike way of going about everything.)
"Say, Ralph, won't you favor me with the recipe for perennial youth? I never saw such a contrast between apparent and actual age!" (During my early forties.)
"Ralph, you are a tub of mush! You look like a fat frau in the last stage of pregnancy!" (The reader will pardon the vulgarity occasioned by my wish to
