what trouble you might have gotten into!"
Miss Hugonin pouted. "You needn't be such a grandfather," she
suggested, helpfully.
"But it's a serious business," he insisted. At this point Billy began
to object to her pouting as distracting one's mind from the subject
under discussion. "It--why, it's----"
"It's what?" she pouted, even more rebelliously.
"Crimson," said Mr. Woods, considering--"oh, the very deepest,
duskiest crimson such as you can't get in tubes. It's a colour was
never mixed on any palette. It's--eh? Oh, I beg your pardon."