CHAPTER VIII
PRESTO! CHANGE!
The vision of that dark hair rippling down as she drew out pin after pin held Stewart entranced. And the curve of her uplifted arms was also a thing to be remembered! But what was it she proposed to do? Surely——
“If you are going to wash, you would better do it, Tommy,” she said, calmly. “I shall be wanting to in a minute.”
Mechanically, Stewart slipped out of his coat, undid his tie, took off his collar, pulled up his sleeves, and fell to. He was obsessed by a feeling of unreality which even the cold water did not dissipate. It couldn’t be true—all this——
“I wish you would hurry, Tommy,” said a voice behind him. “I am waiting for you to unhook my bodice.”
Stewart started round as though stung by an adder. His companion’s hair fell in beautiful dark waves about her shoulders, and he could see that her bodice was loosened.
“There are two hooks I cannot reach,” she explained, in the most matter-of-fact tone. “I should think you would know that by this time!”
“Oh, so it’s that bodice!” said Stewart, and dried his hands vigorously, resolved to play the game to the end, whatever it might be. “All right,” and as she turned her back toward him, he began gingerly searching for the hooks.
“Come a little this way,” she said; “you can see better,” and, glancing up, Stewart suddenly understood.
They were standing so that their shadows fell upon the curtain. The comedy was being played for the benefit of the guard in the street outside.