"My dear good woman, what are you driving at?" asked Micklewright in astonishment.
"Why, sir, I dare say busy gentlemen like yourself don't notice it till some one tells 'em, their combs and brushes being kept tidy unbeknownst; but the truth is, I've been worriting myself over that--I reelly don't like to mention it, but there, being old enough to be your mother--I mean, sir, that little bald spot jest at the crown of the head, sir--jest at the end of the parting, like."
Micklewright laughed as he put his hand on the spot.
"Well, but--Sims?" he said.
"Well, sir, it didn't ought to be there in a gentleman of your age, and thinks I to myself: 'Now, if only the master would try one of them hair-restorers he might have his locks back as luxurious as ever they was.' And I cut the particklers out of that Strand magazine you gave me, sir, and how to choose between 'em I don't know, they're all that good. There's Edwards' Harlene for the Hair, and Rowland's antimacassar oil, and Tatcho, made by that gentleman as writes so beautiful in the Sunday papers; he's the gentleman you mean, I expect--George R. Sims."
The men shouted with laughter, and Mrs. Jones withdrew, happy that her timid suggestion had given no offence.
"To think of you in pursuit of a hairdresser gives me great joy," said Micklewright presently. "He must have been a hairdresser, Teddy."
"I suppose he was," assented Burton rather glumly. "By the way"--he felt in his pockets. "He gave me a handbill; I didn't look at it at the moment; it's in the pocket of my overall, of course. I'll fetch it."
He returned, smoothing the crumpled slip of paper, and smiling broadly.
"Here you are," he said. "'Arsène Lebrun, artist in hair, having returned from London with a marvellous new specific for promoting a luxuriant vegetation'--I am translating, Pickles--'on the most barren soil, respectfully invites all gentlemen, especially those with infantine heads'--that's very nice!--'to assist at a public demonstration on Sunday, August 20. Arsène Lebrun will then massage with his fructifying preparation the six most vacant heads in Ostend, and lay the seeds of a magnificent harvest, which he will subsequently have the honour to reap.' Hittite isn't in it with that, old man."