I've always heard it spoken of out there as wild and woolly, and I suppose it is all a matter of taste." Then she gave a provoking little laugh, and began to hum a tune, as if public schools and people who went to them were too common for her to think about.

Joyce looked out of the window with a sort of don't-care expression, and said something in French.

Of course I couldn't understand it, but she told me afterward that it was a well-known proverb about the opinion of a wise fool.
Eugenia was so astonished! She did not know that Joyce can speak French.
She has a way of using it herself all the time when she talks.

She is always throwing in a French word or sentence that Lloyd and I can't understand.

Joyce laughed about it to me the first day she came, and said Eugenia is just as apt to use the wrong word as the right one.