“Well, that depends how close they are,” said King O’Leary ruefully, thinking of other eyes.
“Do you see me now?” said Tootles fiercely. “I am calm. I am not saying this because I am excited. I am calm. Now listen: I can look at myself and see what’s what. King, I am cured! There’s nothing—nothing there. A pretty face, yes—but that’s all. Drinkwater can have her. I don’t care now. It’s only vanity—just low, despicable vanity, with me, I admit. Thank heaven, I am strong enough to admit it, and because I admit it, I can laugh at it!” He gave an imitation of great hilarity. “Lord, King, what asses we can be!”
Belle Shaler rapped at the door.
“Hey there, Tootles!”
“Well, what?” growled Tootles, stopping short.
“Pansy wants to speak to you.”
“Oh, she does? Well, I’m in the bathtub,” said Tootles, and, as the steps went down the hall, he whistled blithely at King O’Leary, and said:
“You see?”
“Sure; but why did you give a lie?”
“I dislike undignified discussions,” said Tootles loftily.