… this must be that “she never smiles” thing people think.
Steps to imagining this:
Imagine me out of uniform, so, dressed as, like, a student, or as I was for the Jubilee ball (off duty, so, importance of “dignity” greatly reduced);
Imagine me getting really excited about something;
Imagine me “fluttering”-- elbows out, hands lifted a little above shoulder height, palms down, fingers towards the sides of my face (but actually kind of pointed at the end of my nose), flapflapflapflapflap-- and bouncing a little on my toes;
Imagine me either squeaking or gibbering. Neither is particularly inaccurate. This one’s the squeak. EEEEE!
I won’t claim to have done this very often, my lord, and maybe if I actually get to the point where I can’t forget to be a serious person it’ll really disappear, but, it’s not like it never happens.