They
extract their arsenic from the air. The way they step and the carriage of
the form show how full they are of life and spirits. Sarah Bernhardt will
not come to Brighton if she can help it, lest she should lose that high
art angularity and slipperiness of shape which suits her _role_. Dresses
seem always to fit well, because people somehow expand to them. It is
pleasant to see the girls walk, because the limbs do not drag, the feet
are lifted gaily and with ease. Horse-exercise adds a deeper glow to the
face; they ride up on the Downs first, out of pure cunning, for the air
there is certain to impart a freshness to the features like dew on a
flower, and then return and walk their horses to and fro the King's Road,
certain of admiration. However often these tricks are played, they are
always successful. Those philanthropic folk who want to reform women's
dress, and call upon the world to observe how the present style contracts
the chest, and forces the organs of the body out of place (what a queer
expression it seems, "organs"!) have not a chance in Brighton. Girls lace
tight and "go in" for the tip of the fashion, yet they bloom and flourish
as green bay trees, and do not find their skirts any obstacle in walking
or tennis.
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