The Time Machine of Thorrocks Manor - 7

“I am peering nervously sroo zee slightly opened secret door from zer library into zee reverse back passage. I am a very nervoose and frighten girl and, zo, Dame ’Ermion, if you are zair, please reveal yourself and we have nice chat in zer library, yes?”
“Oh, my dear gel, how unutterably sweet and chic of you to come and look for me – or should I say moi? I must concede that my generously endowed posterior has been feeling somewhat distended within the dusty dimensions of this small alcove. And voilà, here is I!”
“Ah, Dame ’Ermion, I am pleased to meet you. I ’ave ’eard so much about you.”
“All good, I hope.”
“Well, ...”
“Excellent. Now, my dear young thing, let us both return into the library and let me have a proper look at you. Oh dear, you must be on a very tight clothing budget, you poor young thing ... and to think I used to think so highly of young and lovely Humpoh. You’ll catch a terrible chill dressed like that. I’ve seen spit-roasting boar more dressed, I can tell you. Talk about piano legs!”
“I can explain everysing, Madame.”
“Oh, but what will your poor dear mama say if she should see you like this?”
“Alas, Madame, she is no longer wiz us.”
“Oh, dear, and your poor dear papa?”
“Sadly, zer same, Madame.”
“Oh, how dreadful. ... But let us keep as cheery as we can, and why don’t you and I have a lovely lady-to-lady natter on the Ottoman.”
“Yes, let us zit ’ere and talk, Madame. But first, let me get zis rope from zis window cabinay and tie it round your left ankle, zo; if Monsieur Garghoul reappear and you run again, we can find you more easily. Zair, you see, such a neat bow!”
“Oh yes, if you feel it is for the best, dear gel. And it is a lovely bow. You remind me of someone. It’s as if I have seen you before. Oh, yes, it’s coming back to me. It was when I was sojourning in Firenze in a rather lovely pension, and discovered that on the floor below was Rodney Blackwater, the poor dear boy ...”
“Why so, Madame?”
“Well, you see, he was horribly in love with me. I never felt quite the same ardour as poor Rodney.”
“Ah, so, Madame.”
“Anyway, one lovely afternoon, dear, poor Rodney and I visited the Uffizi and there I saw Botticelli’s Venus ... the similarity between that wonder and your own apparency of self is striking.”
“Ah, so, Madame.”
“But, my dear gel, your skin is all dimply. I know, I’ll be a bit cheeky and get the tiger rug from the hall – I think the rope you have so kindly attached to my ankle should reach that far - and the elephant rug from in here. While I’m fetching them, tell me all about where you hail from.”
“Madame?”
“Come from, lovely one.”
“Oh, I come from a small ’amlet outside Bordeaux ...”
“Bordeaux! That reminds me of someone. Oh, yes, it’s coming back to me. It was when I was sojourning in Bordeaux in a rather lovely pension, and discovered that on the floor below was Randy Frumpington Forthtwit, the poor dear boy ...”
“Why so, Madame?”
“Well, you see, he was horribly in love with me. I never felt quite the same ardour as poor Randy.”
“Ah, so, Madame. You ’ave ’ad many lovers, Madam?”
“Oh, hundreds, you dear young thing. Now, let me see, yes, the tiger rug fits quite well over my left shoulder ...”
“Hallo! HALLO! HAL-RUDDY-LO! NOT NOW, MISS FROGMARTIAN!”
“Whet wez that? Oh, probably the parakeet. Right, now, the elephant rug. ... Yes, I think I can manage that on my right shoulder. Oh dear, I seem to have got myself a bit tangled up in the rope, no matter. There you go, my dear, you wrap yourself up in that and I’ll make elegant use of this.”
“Sank you, Madame. Do you sink the ’ead of zer tiger is best on top of my ’ead ... like zees? Is zat ser most chic?”
“Oh definitely, yes. It sets off your curls lovelily. And now, do you think the trunk sets off my slightly rouged cheeks best, if I dangle it to the right or the left of my head.”
“I sink to zer right, Madame.”
“Oh my gracious!”
“Vot, Madame?”
“I have been so dreadfully rude! I never asked you your name!”
“Madamoiselle Vue, Madame.”
“Madamoiselle who, Madamoiselle?”
“Madamoiselle Vue, Madame. Madamoiselle Déjà Vue, Madame.”
“How terribly à propos.”