"I never am. Haven't you noticed that women with a really perfect
profile like mine are seldom even moderately agreeable?"

"I don't think your profile is so perfect as all that," said the
Baroness.

"It would be surprising if it wasn't. My mother was one of the
most noted classical beauties of her day."

"These things sometimes skip a generation, you know," put in the
Baroness, with the breathless haste of one to whom repartee comes
as rarely as the finding of a gold-handled umbrella.

"My dear Sophie," said the Gräfin sweetly, "that isn't in the
least bit clever; but you do try so hard that I suppose I oughtn't
to discourage you. Tell me something: has it ever occurred to you
that Elsa would do very well for Wratislav? It's time he married
somebody, and why not Elsa?"

"Elsa marry that dreadful boy!" gasped the Baroness.

"Beggars can't be choosers," observed the Gräfin.

"Elsa isn't a beggar!"

"Not financially, or I shouldn't have suggested the match. But
she's getting on, you know, and has no pretensions to brains or
looks or anything of that sort."