“Do you see my cravat?” he asked.
She was wondering if they had not better be returning towards home.
“I know that you have one on,” she said; “I can’t say that I notice anything especial about it.”
“I will show you something very curious about it.”
“You’re not going to take it off, are you?”
“I will show you how I tie it.”
“I know how to tie that kind myself.”
“Not as I tie it.”
Then he deliberately handed her his umbrella and untied his cravat, and proceeded to turn one end up and fold the other across and poke a loop through and draw an end under, and thus manipulate the whole into a reproduction of the same tiny bowknot as before. She held the umbrella and contemplated the performance with an interest which was most flattering to his labor.
“I don’t see how you ever do it,” she exclaimed when the job was complete and he took the umbrella again.