“I do,” she pronounced with fitting solemnity.
“Oh-h-h-h!” breathed Darcy in a long-drawn, ecstatic sigh.
“At least partly possible. It’s worth the trial, in any case. Darcy,” said Miss Greene incisively, “I’m going to take you in hand, myself.”
“Oh, Gloria! If you would! I’ll love you forever for it.”
“You won’t. On the contrary, you’ll probably hate me poisonously before it’s half over.”
“For helping me to be something and look like something?” protested the girl incredulously. “How could I be anything but the most grateful—”
“Wait and see,” interrupted the oracle. “We’re going to begin our little magic process right now. Presto—pass! You’re a lay figure.”
“A what?” faltered Darcy.
“A lay figure. Act accordingly.”
“What does a lay figure do, please?”