"Yes, indeed," agreed the demure Olwen, feeling as if she exchanged a mental glance with the unknown Inventor of that Charm. "It will be worth it."
CHAPTER IV
THE CHARM BEGINS TO WORK
"Bescheidenheit ist eine Zier',
Doch weiter kommt man ohne ihr."
Boche Proverbs.
"No woman can get me to call her pretty," enunciated Captain Ross, "until I've seen her walk."
The fiat, delivered in that ice-ax voice of his, cut through the polyglot murmur of the visitors gathered in the shining bare salon, all mirrors and decorations of artificial iris. The voice continued to hold forth.
"Feet first; then figure. That's how it comes with me. Then hair. Fairrrr hairrr. Must be fair-to-golden. A woman who isn't bland"—this is how he pronounced it, but his hearers assumed it to mean blonde—"a woman who isn't bland is only half a woman to me."