"Thank you, Punch. What shall I do about my hair, then?" 

 "Wear it in a pig-tail. I'll plait it for you. It'll be worth another sovereign to the Bananas." 

 "If you put it like that—" she said slowly. 

 "I do, Judy." 

 If the suggestion was not prompted by motives which were entirely disinterested, I think I may be forgiven. 

 "I say, Judy," I said a little later, pausing unnecessarily in my work, and making pretence to comb with my fingers the tresses as yet ungathered into the plait. 

 "Yes? What a long time you are!" 

 Well, there was a knot. 

 She tried to look round into my face at that, but I vigorously unplaited about two inches, which seemed to satisfy her. For me, I thought of Penelope and her web and the wooers, and smiled. 

 "Well, what is it, Punch?" 

 "About the mask." 

 "No good!" 

 "But, Judy—" 

 For the next two minutes I did a little listening. When she paused for breath: 

 "Have some ham," I suggested. 

 "Bother the ham! Do you hear what I say?" 

 "I heard you bother the ham." 

 "Before that?" 

 "Something about a mask, was it?" 

 "Give me back my hair," she demanded. 

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