But he did not quite know
what to answer.
"She's awfully attractive," he said. "The sort you'd turn and look
after in a crowd. She hasn't got what you call features, but--you
can't take your eyes off her somehow. She looks--she looks--well, a
tiny bit like a--a--perfectly gloriously fascinating--golliwog."
"A golliwog!"
"Great big, wide-apart eyes, I mean; dark, floating ones, with immense
eyelashes that curl up and stick out when you see her profile. She's
got a short, round face--no, kind of heart-shaped, I guess, and a
little, delicate, turned-up nose, like the Duchess of Marlborough's;
and a lovely mouth--yes, her mouth _is_ lovely, no mistake! She's
nearly always laughing, even when she isn't happy. She's got a long
neck, like a flower stem, and long legs---"
"Good gracious, what a description! For heaven's sake, who is the
girl?"
"Oh, I know it must sound queer; but she's the most fascinating thing
you ever saw, and any man would say so. She's a Miss Child---"
"There's no Miss Child on the passenger list."
"Maybe not; because she's one of Nadine's models, and I bought you a
gorgeous dress off her. I've been--saving it for a surprise.
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