At the instant he resembled nothing so much as a handsome, good-humoured, but disobedient, dog patiently awaiting a reprimand.
"On my word I'm jolly glad," he repeated, and stopped because he could think of nothing further to say that did not sound foolish in his own perturbed mind.
"Oh, I'm not utterly lacking in humanity," retorted Gerty, "and one has to be not to admit a moral obligation to one's hostess.

Besides," she confessed, with smiling pleasantry, "I shall rather enjoy Ada Lawley's face when she sees my gown.

She told me last night that she would never be caught wearing silver gauze again until she wanted to look every day as old as she really is.

It was rather hard on her, poor thing, for Arnold says she'd rather lose her character any day than her complexion--not that she has very much of either left by now," she corrected with her cutting laugh.
Before the studied insolence of her attack Perry drew back quickly in surprise, and his eyelids winked rapidly as if a lighted candle had flashed before them.

Then, with that child-like need of having his eyes opened, of being made to _see_, his attention was fastened upon the brilliant figure of his wife, and her beauty seemed at the moment to burn itself into his slow-witted brain.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed, and again, "By Jove!" "I'm glad you like it," replied Gerty, with a careless shrug.