The vicomte has, he say, enough femmes in his hands. ‘And, if this was not enough,’ went on the lady furiously, ‘you dare to say I am French. "I shall value it highly, and will promise never to part with it. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against. “Ask me nothing. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley.
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