“Of course you should. But people get slack, don’t they, when they live off all alone by themselves? Still, I suppose you spruced up a little for me?”
“Nothing of the sort,” he denied, with heat.
“No? Oh, my poor little vanity! He wouldn’t dress up for us, Vanity, though we did dress up for him, and we’re looking awfully nice—for a voice, that is. Do you always keep so soft and pink and smooth, Mr. Beetle Man?”
“I own a razor, if that’s what you mean. You’re making fun of me. Well, I don’t mind.” He lifted his voice and chanted:—
“Although beyond the pale of law,
He always kept a polished jaw;
For he was one of those who saw
A saving hope
In shaving soap.”
“Oh, lovely! What a noble finish. What is it?”
“Extract from ‘Biographical Blurbings.’”
“Autobiographical?”
“Yes. By Me.”
“And are you beyond the pale of law?”