Oh, 'tis Not My Qualities They Object

Spread The Glad Tidings That It Will Not Disappoint Miss Heyer's Many Admirers. Judging From The Letters I've Received From Obviously Feeble-minded Persons Who Do So Wish I Would Write Another These Old Shades, It Ought To Sell Like Hot Cakes. I Think Myself I Ought To Be Shot For Writing Such Nonsense, But It's Questionably Good Escapist Literature And I Think I Should Rather Like It If I Were Sitting In An Air-raid Shelter, Or Recovering From Flu. Its Period Detail Is Good; My Husband Says It's Witty---and Without Going To These Lengths, I Will Say That It Is Very Good Fun.

You Will Like Her," He Persisted. "egad, She's After Your Own Heart, Maman! She Shot Me In The Arm." "voyons, Do You Think That Is What I Like?

Oh, 'tis Not My Qualities They Object To! 'tis My Lack Of Vice.

Talking To You Is Like -- Like Talking To An Eel!" "no, Is It? I've Never Tried To Talk To An Eel. Isn't It As Waste Of Time?" "not Such A Waste Of Time As Talking To You!

Depend Upon It, You Are Just The Sort Of Girl A Man Would Be Glad To Have For His Sister! You Don't Even Know How To Swoon, And I Daresay If You Tried You Would Make Wretched Work Of It, For All You Have Is Common Sense, And Of What Use Is That, Pray?