[*sotto voce*] So... the scheming strumpets who frolic here have told my Master of my other Master. Oh, those ruttish, hedge-born harpies! I must think fast to foil them!]
Oh, Sir, Sir, come here but for a minute! -- for there is something of which you must be unaware. Do you not know that the spouse to whom you refer is... is... Inuit?... Now, Sir, you may have heard reported that his physical appearance is not that of what the loutish oft refer to as 'Eskimos,' but... but... uh... But Sir, this spouse was adopted at birth, yes, that's it, adopted!... by a lovely Inuit couple! And of course, he was, thereby, raised by them to respect certain Inuit customs...
Are you aware, Sir, of just how hospitable an Inuit spouse can be to an honored guest?
And Sir, also, may i mention that the nightly cup of warm milk i serve to my spouse has been known, on certain occasions, to produce an unusually deep sleep...
And so, Sir, I am wondering now if I have convinced you to put from your Artiste's head any thought of accepting the hospitality of that most saucy Lady Edwarda...?
When I return from my duties elsewhere, I shall look for your response. Know, Sir, that all happiness lies for me in pleasing One of your manifest Artistic Creativity. Art, for this humble maid, is a veritable deity! (Because I am a most cultured lady.) |
