Театр

           "Thisisromance,"shethought,andalight,quicksmilehoveredoverherlips.

           Hecaughtsightofherinthemirror,turnedroundandwithoutaword,twitchedthesheetoverher.Thoughshesmiledathimaffectionately,itgaveherquiteaturn.WasheafraidthatshewouldcatchcoldorwasitthathisEnglishmodestywasshockedathernakedness?Orcoulditbethat,hisboyishlustsatisfied,hewasatrifledisgustedatthesightofherageingbody?Whenshegothomesheagaintookallherclothesoffandexaminedherselfinthelooking-glass.Shedeterminednottospareherself.Shelookedatherneck,therewasnosignofagethere,especiallywhensheheldherchinup;andherbreastsweresmallandfirm;theymighthavebeenagirl’s.Herbellywasflat,herhipsweresmall,therewasaverysmallrolloffatthere,likealongsausage,buteveryonehadthat,andanyhowMissPhillipscouldhaveagoatit.Noonecouldsaythatherlegsweren’tgood,theywerelongandslimandcomely;shepassedherhandsoverherbody,herskinwasassoftasvelvetandtherewasn’tablemishonit.Ofcoursetherewereafewwrinklesunderhereyes,butyouhadtopeertoseethem;theysaidtherewasanoperationnowbywhichyoucouldgetridofthem,itmightbeworthwhiletoinquireintothat;itwasluckythatherhairhadretaineditscolour;howeverwellhairwasdyed,todyehardenedtheface;hersremainedarich,deepbrown.Herteethwereallrighttoo.

           "Prudishness,that’sallitwas."