Meg looked queerly at Jan as she slowly took off her hat.
"There!" she said.
Her hair was cropped as short as a boy's, except for the soft, tawny rings that framed her face.
"Meg!" Jan cried. "Why on earth have you cut off your hair?"
"Chill penury's the cause. I've turned it into good hard cash. It happens to be the fashionable colour just now."
"Did you really need to? I thought you were getting quite a good salary with those Hoffmeyers."
"No English governess gets a good salary in Bremen, and mine was but a modest remuneration, so I wanted more. Do you remember Lady Penelope Pottinger?"
"Hazily. She was pretty, wasn't she ... and very smart?"
"She was and is ... smarter than ever now—mind, I put you on your honour never to mention it—she's got my hair."
"Do you mean she asked you to sell it?"