She leaned nearer, shaking back her straight, black hair, which fell from beneath the small cap.
"I want to see if you have changed since yesterday."
He turned towards her.
"Have I?" he asked hopefully.
She regarded him gravely, though a smile played over her changeful lips.
"Not a bit. Not a freckle."
"Hang it all! I lost my freckles long ago."
"Then they've come back. There are one—two—three on your nose."
"Hold on! Let my looks alone, please."
Eugenia whistled softly, half grave, half gay.