"No," says she; "although that helps.  But as we walked in I thought
you seemed taller than I.  Let's measure, here by the pier glass.  Now,
back to back.  Well, if I ever!  Look where your shoulders come!"

"No more than an inch or so," says I, gazin' sideways at the mirror;
and then I lets slip, half under my breath, a sort of gaspy "Gee!"

"Why the 'Gee'?" says she, glancin' over her shoulder into the glass.

"Oh, I don't know," says I; "only I don't mind bein' grouped like this,
not a bit."

"Pooh!" says she, but still holdin' the pose.

"Seems to me," says I, "that Cousin Eulalia is a slick describer.  That
Princess Charming business ain't so wide."

"Silly!" says she.  "Come and sit down."

She was steerin' for the windowseat; but I picks out a cozy little
high-backed davenport and, reachin' for one of her hands, swings her
into that.  "Just room for two here," says I.

"But you needn't keep my hand," says she.

"No trouble," says I.  "Besides, I thought I'd inspect what kind of a
manicure you take of.  M-m-m-m!  Pretty fair, no hangnails, all the
half-moons showin' proper, an----"  I broke off sudden at that and sat
starin' blank.

"Well, anything else?" says she.

"I--I guess not," says I, lettin' her hand slip.  "You've chucked it,
eh?"

"Chucked what?" says she.

"Nothing much," says I.  "But for awhile there, you know, just for fun
you was wearin' something of mine."

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