"My eyes—what else?" said the girl, with disconcerting bravado.
"Oh—by Jove! they are splendid. Er—I was not quite sure of the colour five minutes ago. I'd have sworn they were black; now I see they are greenish brown——"
"And in another five minutes they may be a greyish blue—one thing I can promise, they are never red."
"Do you never cry? Oh, come now! Every woman cries."
"Pray, why should I cry?" she asked, with a touch of defiance.
"But you must have some sort of escape for your feelings?"
"Not necessarily. I have no feelings."
"Then you are one of the sights of India! What more uncommon than a woman who has eyes like a chameleon, who never cries, and has no feelings? You are a marvel, Miss Chandos!"
"But I am not really Miss Chandos. I am only number four, and I am called Dominga."
"Good heavens—what a name! Where did they find it?"