"I've lived in it all my life, you see--one of a poor country parson's superfluous daughters.

Oh, I've had enough of muddy lanes and stupid local people.
Give me London--and life.

One doesn't _live_ in the country, one only exists, like a vegetable.

Do you like my dress ?" she asked, with her irrelevant abruptness; and she cast a complacent eye down her exquisitely-clad figure.
"It is a very beautiful one," said Celia.
"Paris.

The worst of Paris is that, once you have had it, everything else seems dowdy.