The friend arranged that they should meet at a ball, and the one was as well pleased as the other; but not wishing to seem to yield too soon, she said:
‘Do you know, I don’t like that green tooth you’ve got.’
And he, not to appear too easy either, answered:
‘And, do you know, I don’t like that patch[2] you have on your face.’
The next time they met, neither he had a green tooth, nor had she a patch; for, you know, a patch can be put on and taken off at pleasure, and this happened a long long while ago, in the days when they wore such things.
She then said:
‘If you’ve put in a false tooth I’ll have nothing to say to you.’
‘No,’ answered he; ‘you have taken off your patch; and I’ve taken off my green tooth.’
‘How could you do that?’ she asked.
‘Oh! it was only a leaf I put on to see if you were really as particular as you seemed to be.’