“I didn’t know,” she replied with her provoking, happy smile, “for men are such conceited creatures.”
“I’m not authorized to speak for the rest, but I’m certainly conceited,” he returned promptly. “For I’ve always believed myself one of the ugliest animals in the whole human menagerie. And at last my merits are recognized.”
“But I said ‘till yesterday’,” she corrected. “Since then, somehow, your face seems to have changed.”
“Changed?”
“Yes. I think you are growing rather good-looking.” Behind her happy raillery was a tone of seriousness.
“Good-looking? Me good-looking? And that’s the way you dash my hopes!”
“Yes, sir. Good-looking.”
“Woman, you don’t know what sorrow is in those words you spoke! Just to think,” he said mournfully, “that all my life I’ve fondled the belief that when I was made God must have dropped the clay while it was still wet.”
“I’m sorry——”