"Heh," Sandra scoffed again. "Clara Grant, you really are shameless. You can twist anything you hear into a compliment."
"Huh? Weren't you complimenting me?" Clara Grant looked a little surprised. "Then what did you mean?"
"What I mean is that you play a seductive, cheap woman who flirts with everyone so well, so perfectly. I'm afraid it's not because your acting is good, but simply because that's who you are in real life. You're just being yourself, aren't you? Pah! You piece of trash! You slut!" Sandra's face was a mask of contempt mixed with jealousy.
The smile vanished from Clara Grant's face. Since Sandra had resorted to such nasty words, there was no longer any need for Clara to back down as she had before.
"Is that so? Good acting means you're just playing yourself? So by your logic, an actor who plays a thief or a gangster well is a real thief or gangster? An actress who plays a prostitute well is a real prostitute?
