"But then it would be wet, and I should hate that. Give me yours," says Miss Chesney, with calm selfishness.
Guy laughs, and produces an unopened handkerchief in which he carefully, and, it must be confessed, very tardily dries her fingers, one by one.
"Do you always take as long as that to dry your own hands?" asks Lilian, gravely, when he has arrived at the third finger of the second hand.
"Always!" without a blush.
"Your dressing, altogether, must take a long time?"
"Not so long as you imagine. It is only on my hands I expend so much care."
"And on mine," suggestively.
"Exactly so. Do you never wear rings?"
"Never. And for the very best reason."
"And that?"