The saddest class in our social life is that of the thoroughbred American girl who is a thousand times too good for her de-luxe surroundings and the crew of vacuous la-de-da Willies hanging about her, yet who, absolutely cut off from contact with any others, either gradually fades into a peripatetic old maid, wandering over Europe, or marries an eligible, turkey-trotting nondescript "a mimmini-pimmini, Francesca da Rimini, je-ne-sais-quoi young man."
"And perhaps a suspicion of je-ne-sais-quoi," added Wally. Mr Goble worried his cigar, and essayed a new form of attack. "You've done a lot of work for me," he said. "Good work!" "Glad you liked it," said Wally. "You're a good kid! I like having you around. I was half thinking of giving you a show to do this Fall. Corking book. French farce. Ran two years in Paris.
The heroine had been saying something I forget what and all the chorus, with Cyril at their head, had begun to surge round her in the restless sort of way those chappies always do when there's a number coming along. Cyril's first line was, "Oh, I say, you know, you mustn't say that, really!" and it seemed to me he passed it over the larynx with a goodish deal of vim and je-ne-sais-quoi.
These should be condemned to converse only in dumb show with their own persons in the looking-glass, as well as the Smirkers and Smilers, who so prettily set off their faces, together with their words, by a je-ne-sais-quoi between a grin and a dimple. Next to these whose elocution is absorbed in action, and who converse chiefly with their arms and legs, we may consider the Profest Speakers.
'The moral je-ne-sais-quoi, so to speak, said Marriott. 'That'll be all right. Wait till we get at 'em. What I want you to turn your great brain to now is this letter. He produced a letter from his pocket. 'Don't you bar chaps who show you their letters? he said. 'This was written by an aunt of mine. I don't want to inflict the whole lot on you. Just look at line four.
Amanda had a gracious way of putting things: she bore herself with infinite dignity, and a je-ne-sais-quoi which pointed to a mixed ancestry; she had well-shaped hands. At seven o'clock in the evening her knock preceded preparations for dinner, while she munched something or hummed a tune meanwhile.
"Mais il y en a des mauvaises," I deprecated. "Meme les mauvaises," he insisted, "Oui, surtout les mauvaises!" But Sentant is unique. I can only say that as I sat sniffing on the deck of the Kawa there was about us a soupcon of the je-ne-sais-quoi tropicale, half nostalgie, half diablerie. It was ... but what's the use? You will have to go out there some time and smell it for yourself.
I haven't had half enough. Yes, my vocation is among women. You will hardly believe me, my dears, but men don't seem to appreciate me, somehow! There is a `Je-ne-sais-quoi' in my beauty which doesn't appeal to them a mite. But girls adore me. I've a fatal fascination for them which they can't withstand.