The Brother of Daphne
parted and smiling a little, such a smile as goes always with eyebrows just raised, very alluring—so much only I saw. For the rest, a strip of black velvet made an irritating mask. 

 I made her a low bow. 

 "I can see this is going to be a big thing," I said.  "Won't you come down?" 

 "I haven't even said I'll take you," 

 "Please." 

 "You're sure to be recognized, and then, what about me?" 

 "Oh, no, I shan't. If necessary, I'll wear a false nose. I've got one somewhere." 

 "Here's my milk." 

 I looked round and beheld a small boy approaching with a jug. 

 "Was that the best you could do in the native line?" 

 "You needn't sneer. I'm not over-confident about my second venture." 

 "Well, a knave's better than a fool, any day." 

 "I'm sure I hope so." 

 She slipped down out of sight into the booth again, to reappear a moment later in the road:  and by her side a beautiful white bull-terrier, a Toby ruff about his sturdy neck. 

 "Good man," said my lady, pointing a finger at me.  "Good man." 

 The dog came forward, wagging his tail. I stooped and spoke with him. Then I turned to his mistress. She had discarded her white hat and drawn on a long dust-coat, which reached almost to her ankles. She held it close about her, as she walked. It showed off her slim figure to great advantage. Below, the wide edges of white duck trousers just appeared above shining insteps and high heeled shoes. 

 When the urchin had come up, she took the jug from him with both hands. 

 "I shall have to drink out of it," she said, raising it to her lips with a smile. 


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