“As you’ve made her acquaintance, you might ask her to dine at our table to-morrow night. It’s the Fancy Dress dance. By the way, you’d better go down to the barber and select a fancy costume for me.”
“Surely you will not go in fancy dress?” said Pagett, in tones of horror.
I could see that it was quite incompatible with his idea of my dignity. He looked shocked and pained. I had really had no intention of donning fancy dress, but the complete discomfiture of Pagett was too tempting to be forborne.
“What do you mean?” I said. “Of course I shall wear fancy dress. So will you.”
Pagett shuddered.
“So go down to the barber’s and see about it,” I finished.
“I don’t think he’ll have any out sizes,” murmured Pagett, measuring my figure with his eye.
Without meaning it, Pagett can occasionally be extremely offensive.
“And order a table for six in the saloon,” I said. “We’ll have the Captain, the girl with the nice legs, Mrs. Blair——”
“You won’t get Mrs. Blair without Colonel Race,” Pagett interposed. “He’s asked her to dine with him, I know.”