"You're looking very well, Heriot," she answered timidly.
"Did you ever see a man of my age look better?"
"N—no," she stammered.
"Well, don't be afraid to say so, for it's perfectly true. Do you mind a kind of deep wrinkle under my eyes? Where's that gone now?"
"I can't imagine, Heriot."
"Well, don't look distressed; it's bonnier away."
"Yes," she said in a flustered voice, "you do have a kind of smoother look."
"Smoother and harder," he replied, prodding his ribs with his fingers.
She gave a little cry of distress.