“What about your hat?”
“Would you like me to get a large one or a small one?”
“For God's sake,” answered Hilary, “a small one—no feathers.”
“Oh!”
“Can you attend to me a minute? Have either Hughs or Mrs. Hughs spoken to you about—coming to my house, about—me?”
The little model's face remained impassive, but by the movement of her fingers Hilary saw that she was attending now.
“I don't care what they say.”
Hilary looked away; an angry flush slowly mounted in his face.
With surprising suddenness the little model said:
“Of course, if I was a lady, I might mind!”