"Do you like the new me?" Art said as he turned to his friend. "Or do you prefer the old me? You remember? That middle-aged, fat, hulking joke of a man. I was so pathetic, trying to look tough, act like a big man. Now here I am, all small and feminine and womanly."

"I can see your smile," Art kept going. "And I can... oh, Mr. French! I didn't know you were, oh yes, I must keep to a discreet silence your 'excitability' for now. People could be around, after all, and I need not discuss such a lurid matter. Speaking of people being around, have you seen them looking at me? At my dress? At my legs? Many are looking at me the same way you are, Mr. French. And, speaking of people being around, why don't we go upstairs? I have a room booked and there will be just us, where I can be less discrete and you can be much, much more lurid that here in the lobby!"