"How can you say he is overestimated!" said a voice.
"You men are all jealous of him," said another.
"Is he handsome? I have heard he is."
"He would scarcely be called so," said the Celebrity, doubtfully.
"He is, girls," Miss Trevor interposed; "I have seen his photograph."
"What does he look like, Irene?" they chorused. "Men are no judges."
"He is tall, and dark, and broad-shouldered," Miss Trevor enumerated, as though counting her stitches, "and he has a very firm chin, and a straight nose, and—"
"Perfect!" they cried. "I had an idea he was just like that. I should go wild about him. Does he talk as well as he writes, Mr. Allen?"
"That is admitting that he writes well."
"Admitting?" they shouted scornfully, "and don't you admit it?"