Frank looked up.
"Ah, yes; I rubbed it out directly after you left me, and made a sketch of what it was going to be like, and I forgot to put it in again. I'll do it now. There is a great deal of careful work about the hands, too."
"What are you doing?" asked Margery, examining them. "It looks as if you were smoothing out a crumpled piece of paper."
"Ah, you think that?" said Frank, absently. "I wondered if you would think I was crumpling a piece of paper up."
"Oh no," said she, confidently; "you are smoothing it out. What does it mean? What's the paper—a programme or something?"
"Yes, a programme or something."
He emphasized the faint lines on the face, and again stood aside.
"Look!"
"Oh, Frank, that won't do at all. You look as if you were a convict or something horrible, or as if that piece of paper in your hands was an unpaid bill which you were trying not to pay."
Frank laughed a little bitter laugh.