Bets then looked hard at the old woman's dirty brown face, all wrinkled up. She looked into the surprisingly bright, twinkling eyes—and she saw that they were Fatty's eyes! Yes, there wasn't an atom of doubt about it—they were Fatty's own bright, intelligent eyes!"
"Oh, Fatty!" whispered Bets. "Oh, it really is you, isn't it? Oh, do say it is?"
The old woman looked round quickly to make sure no one was listening.
"Yes. It's me all right," said Fatty, unwrinkling his face as if by magic, and straightening his bent back. "Jolly good disguise, isn't it? But HOW did you know it was me, Bets? You're too cute for anything!”
"Sh! There's somebody coming," whispered Bets. I’ll go. Where will you meet us?"
"Go home at six and I'll meet you somewhere," said Fatty hurriedly, and screwed his face up into all kinds of wrinkles again. Bets saw that he had cleverly painted the places where the wrinkles came, so that no one could possibly see that they were not always there. Fatty was simply marvellous!
"Don't tell the others!" said Fatty. "Keep it dark for a bit." Then he raised his voice and, in a feeble croak, called "Balloons! Sixpence each! Fine strong balloons!"
Bets went off, her eyes shining. She had found Fatty—and oh, wasn't he clever! He really, really was.
The Old Balloon-Woman.
Bets went to join the others, very pleased with herself. Her blue balloon floated behind her, tugging at its string.