"You're not fooling any, Old-Dad?" she asked.
"Not fooling any," said her father.
Blackly for an instant the heavy lashes shadowed down across the delicately tinted cheeks. Then quite abruptly a real smile flashed from eyes to lips.
"Oh, Old-Dad!" cried Daphne. "Would you mind if I touched your—beautiful hair?"
"Oh, shucks!" dodged her father.
But Daphne's little hands had already reached their goal.
"Oh, Old-Dad—how soft!" she gloated. "How white! How thick! But, oh goodness—isn't it hot?"
"On the contrary," smiled her father with a slightly twisted eyebrow. "On the contrary—it is an Ice Cap prescribed by Fate 104 for what has doubtless been an over-feverish youth."
Solemnly for an instant Daphne considered the answer.
"Which being interpreted?" she questioned.