Explore "The Cords of Vanity" by James Branch Cabell on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"So you don't like my stage-name? " she asked, as I sat down beside her. "Well, for that matter, no more do I."
"It doesn't suit you," I protested -- "not in the least. Whereas, you might be a Signorina Somebody-or-other, you know. You are dark and stately and -- well, I can't tell you all the things you are," I complained, "because the English language is so abominably limited. But, upon the whole, I am willing to take the word of the playbill -- yes, I am quite willing to accept you as Signorina Capulet. She had a habit of sitting in gardens at night, I remember. Yes," I decided, after reflection, "I really think it highly probable that you are old Capulet's daughter. I shall make a point of it to pick a quarrel as soon as possible, with that impertinent, trespassing young Montague. He really doesn't deserve you, you know."