“Worse,” quoth I, plumply.
He laughed quite out, saying, “That’s ingenuous, however; and, indeed, I must confess they are reduced, from time to time, to shift their hands from one pocket to another.”
“Not, to speak of lounging about in their chairs from one side to another.”
“But the real use of a fan,” cried he, “if there is any, is it not—to hide a particular blush that ought not to appear?"
“O, no; it would rather make it the sooner noticed.”
“Not at all; it may be done under pretence of absence—rubbing the cheek, or nose—putting it up accidentally to the eye—in a thousand ways.”
He went through all these evolutions comically enough, and then, putting aside his toy, came back to graver matters.