ARCADIAN SIMPLICITY
A moment later I had another shock.
"I don't blame you for looking at me so hard," she said, rubbing her chin and looking, I thought, a little confused. "For did you ever see a face like mine?"
"I—I never did!" I said stammeringly, for, by Jove, the question was so unexpected; but I knew I said it earnestly and with conviction in every word.
She nodded. "Never got a chance to shave, you know—caught the train by such a margin—and my kit's in that other bag. Guess I'll have to impose on you in the morning for one of your razors."
I stared at her in horror.
"Shave? You don't shave?" I protested blankly.
"Myself, you mean? Have to; I haven't got a man to do it for me." She seemed to sigh. "Not old enough yet to have a man, Jack says."
And just here her attention seemed to center on my cellarette over in the corner.
"Gee, but it's warm to-night, isn't it?" she remarked absently.