Selected Cronicas

SUMMER BALL

Fanning herself, the fat matron is lost in thought. The fan helps her to think as she sits there fanning herself rigorously. Then with a sudden click, she abruptly arrests her thoughts. Empty, smiling, rigid in her tight corset, she looks distracted. The fan reclines distracted and open on her ample bosom. ‘No doubt, they’ll all find a husband’, she concedes like a visitor being received in a drawing-room. But suppressing her agitation, there she is fanning herself with a thousand sparrows’ wings.