Isabelle hesitated a second.
“Yes—very.”
“Mine isn’t. He’s fat—awf’ly fat. His head blouses over his collar all round.”
“You mean his neck.”
“No, he hasn’t any neck—it’s the back of his head. Don’t you wish your father looked like a Gibson man?”
“Mine does.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Very tall and broad-shouldered, with wavy hair, grey eyes, and wonderful teeth! He’s very smart looking—oh, very!”
“Oh, Isabelle, he must be grand!” ejaculated Peggy.
“You ought to see him on a horse. He’s just superb,” she answered, delighted with her fairy story.