Yes, and from everybody's point of view, I think I'm doing something good.

Because when the woman is miserable, she can generally make her man miserable.

But when the woman is happy, she can nearly always make the man happy, too." "I wish you'd make me happy," sighed poor Wally.
"Here comes Helen," said Mary with just the least trace of wickedness in her voice.

"She'll do her best, I'm sure." Helen was dressed for the evening, her arms and shoulders gleaming, her coiffure like a golden turban.
"Mary hardly ever dresses any more," she said as she came down the stairs, "so I feel I have to do double duty." On the bottom landing she stopped and with extravagant motions of her body sang the opening lines of the Bedouin's Love Song, Wally joining in at last with his plaintive, passionate tenor.
"If you ever lose your money, Wally," she said, coming down the remaining stairs, "we'll take up comic opera." Curtseying low she simpered, "My lord!" and gave him her hand to kiss.
"She knows how to handle men," thought Mary watching, "just as the women at the factory know how to handle metal.

I wonder if it comes natural to her, or if she studies it by herself, or if she learned any of it at Miss Parsons'." She was interrupted by a message from Hutchins, the butler.