"When we are apart I always imagine your face as a face of gold, with eyes and teeth of bdellium, or chalcedony, or agate, or any wonderful unknown stones of appropriate colors." Agatha, witless and dumb, could only look down deprecatingly.
"You think you ought to be angry with me, and you do not know exactly how to make me feel that you are so.

Is that it ?" "No.

Quite the contrary.

At least--I mean that you are wrong.

I am the most commonplace person you can imagine--if you only knew.