My name is Frances. Don't call me Fanny! Why not? Because it's too absurd to be endured! What does the mere sound of Fanny suggest? A flirting dancing creature - plump and fair, and playful and pretty!
My name is Frances. Don't call me Fanny!
Why not?
Because it's too absurd to be endured! What does the mere sound of Fanny suggest? A flirting dancing creature - plump and fair, and playful and pretty!
The old trees were decorated with beautiful orchideas*, yellow bannisterias, blue-flowered bignonias, peperomias, arums, and pothoses.[…]* Cymbidium violaceum, habenaria angustifolia, &c.
Someone pushed me in the chest and I fell back.
She yelped, ripped me off her chest and flung me so hard against the wall my eyes went out of focus. “Charlie,” she yelled, sitting up and frantically looking down the front of her nightie, acting as though I'd debreasted her or something.
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