"Cuckoo, I want you to make a little experiment for my sake."
"Whatever is it, dearie?"
"Just on that one night take—take all that off."
With an almost timid gesture, and growing boyishly red, he indicated the art decoration, pink and pale, that adorned her face.
Poor Cuckoo looked completely flabbergasted.
"What?" she said uncertainly; "don't you like me with it?"
"No."
"Well, but, I don't know."
Such an experiment evidently struck her as portentous, earth-shaking. She stared into the dingy glass that stood over the mantelpiece in Marylebone Road.
"I shall look a hag," she muttered, with conviction. "I shall."