"In anything! Nobody would ever think of looking at her in the same room."
"Why not?" said Thorn, coolly.
"I don't know why not," said Charlton, "except that she has not a tithe of her beauty. That's a superb girl!"
For a matter of twenty yards, Mr. Thorn went softly humming a tune to himself, and leisurely switching the flies off his horse.
"Well," said he, "there's no accounting for tastes
'I ask no red and white
To make up my delight,
No odd becoming graces,
Black eyes, or little know-not-what in faces.' "
"What do you want, then?" said Charlton, half laughing at him though his friend was perfectly grave.
"A cool eye, and a mind in it."
"A cool eye!" said Rossitur.
"Yes. Those we have left behind us are arrant will-o'-the- wisps dancing fires no more."