“What? The ham?”
“No; your face.”
Danby laughed.
“You’re not the first who’s thought so.”
“And your voice is familiar, too,” said the girl.
Danby pretended to misunderstand. She had provided him with a chance he simply could not resist.
“Familiar? Oh, don’t say that. I thought I was behaving like an undoubted gentleman—one of the old régime.”
The girl examined the little man with a sudden touch of excitement.
“Look here,” she said. “Tell me the truth. Haven’t you been a picture-postcard?”
“Yes,” said Danby bitterly, “oh dear, yes! A year ago I was to be found in all the shops, between Hackenschmidt and the German Emperor.”