“Ah, right,” commented the photographer. “Splendid! Ve-ry pretty. The head just a lee-eetle more on one side. The expression a lee-eetle less—melancholy. A smile, please—just a lee-eetle smile. Ah, no,” hastily, as William savagely bared his teeth, “perhaps it is better without the smile.” Suppressed gurgles came from behind the screen where Ethel clung helplessly to Blanche. “One more, please. Sitting, I think, this time. The legs crossed—easily and naturally—so. The elbow resting on the arm of the chair and the cheek upon the hand—so.” He retired to a distance and examined the effect, with his head on one side. “A little spoilt by the expression, perhaps—but very pretty. The expression a lee-eetle less—er—fierce, if you will pardon the word.” William here deigned to speak.
“I can’t look any different to this,” he remarked coldly.
“Now, think of the things I say,” went on the photographer, brightly. “Sweeties? Ah!” looking merrily at William’s unchangingly ferocious expression. “Do I see a saucy little smile?” As a matter of fact, he didn’t, because at that moment Ethel, her eyes streaming, peeped round the screen for another look at the priceless sight of William in his best suit, in the familiar attitude of the Bard of Avon. Encountering the concentrated fury of William’s gaze, she retired hastily.
AT THAT MOMENT ETHEL PEEPED ROUND THE SCREEN
FOR ANOTHER LOOK AT THE PRICELESS SIGHT OF
WILLIAM IN THE FAMILIAR ATTITUDE OF THE BARD
OF AVON.
“Seaside with spade and bucket?” went on the photographer, watching William’s unchanging expression. “Pantomimes? That nice, soft, furry pussy cat you’ve got at home?” But seeing William’s expression change from one of scornful fury to one of Nebuchadnezzan rage and fury, he hastily pressed the little ball lest worse should follow.
Ethel’s description of the morning considerably enlivened the lunch table. Only Mrs. Brown did not join in the roars of laughter.
“But I think it sounds very nice, dear,” she said, “very nice. I’m very much looking forward to the proofs coming.”
“Well, it was priceless,” said Ethel. “It was ever so much funnier than the pantomime. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. For years to come, if I feel depressed, I shall just think of William this morning. His face ... oh, his face!”
William defended himself.