way, while we women press against each other, stomach to stomach, face
to face, insolently staring each other out of countenance.

Look at two women who are acquaintances meeting on a staircase before
the drawing-room door of a friend of theirs to whom one has just paid a
visit, and to whom the other is about to pay a visit. They begin to talk
to each other, and block up the passage. If anyone happens to be coming
up behind them, man or woman, do you imagine that they will put
themselves half an inch out of their way? Never! never!

I was waiting myself, with my watch in my hands, one day last winter, at
a certain drawing-room door. Behind me two gentlemen were also waiting
without showing any readiness to lose their temper, like me. The reason
was that they had long grown accustomed to our unconscionable insolence.

The other day, before leaving Paris, I went to dine with no less a
person than your husband in the Champs-Elysees, in order to enjoy the
open air. Every table was occupied. The waiter asked us not to go, and
there would soon be a vacant table.

At that moment, I noticed an elderly lady of noble figure, who, having
paid the amount of her check, seemed on the point of going away. She saw
me, scanned me from head to foot, and did not budge. For more than a
full quarter of an hour she sat there, immovable, putting on her gloves,
and calmly staring at those who were waiting like myself. Now, two young
men who were just finishing their dinner, having seen me in their turn,
quickly summoned the waiter in order to pay whatever they owed, and at
once offered me their seats, even insisting on standing while waiting
for their change. And, bear in mind, my fair niece, that I am no longer
pretty, like you, but old and white-haired.