“From which direction would an enemy come?”
“Probably from down the valley.”
“You have eyes, then, in the back of your head? How fortunate!”
“Oh, I glance around from time to time,” I explained coolly. “Surely you would not deny me the pleasure I have in looking at you! That would be heartless!”
She glanced at me again, with a little pout.
“But I should think that you yourself would feel the need of a bath,” she retorted.
“So that you might feel some pleasure in looking at me?” I asked. “I know I must appear a most hideous scoundrel. My skin is fairly stiff with the dirt upon it; and yet I dare not so much as touch it with water.”
“Dare not?”
“A clean skin would hardly be in keeping with this clothing,” I pointed out.
“That is true,” she admitted, with a swift glance over it. “But why did you assume such a disguise? Who will see you?”