“Only one,” said Miss Harris in a tone of surprise, “I thought there were two.”
“Shall I pin it?”
“Please don’t. How could I get out a pin by myself, and I won’t wake you up at midnight.”
“But it gaps and shows your neck.”
“Then if the play’s dull, the person behind me will have something interesting to look at.”
“But really, Miss Harris—”
“My dear, good, kind friend, don’t be so proper, or do be proper about yourself if it’s your nature and you can’t help it, but don’t be about me. When I’m on the stage I’ll have to show much more than my neck, so I may as well get used to it.”
“Miss Harris!” I said in a firm cold tone, and stopped the hooking.
I caught the gleam of a humorous gray eye.
“Mrs. Drake!” She whirled round and put her hands on my shoulders and looked into my face with a sweetness that was quite bewitching. “You dear little mouse, don’t you know you’re one kind and I’m another. Both are nice kinds in their way, so don’t let’s try to mix them up.”