like a caterpillar in a dream."

"That's right," says Ferdy. "It's been a perfect nightmare to me ever
since Marjorie bought it. But I can't hurt her feelings by refusing to
wear it. And this silly hat too--a scarf instead of a band!"

It's almost pathetic the way Ferdy holds the lid off at arm's length
and gazes indignant at it.

"Draped real sweet, ain't it?" says I. "But most of the smart chappies
are wearin' 'em that way, you know."

"Not this sickly green shade, though," says Ferdy plaintive. "I wish
Marjorie wouldn't get such things for me. I--I've always been rather
particular about my hats and ties. I like them quiet, you understand."

"You would get married, though," says I. "But, say, can't you do a
duck by changing after you leave home?"

Seems the idea hadn't occurred to Ferdy. "But how? Where?" says he,
brightenin' up.

"In the limousine as you're drivin' down to the station," says I. "You
could keep an extra outfit in the car."

"By Jove!" says Ferdy. "Then I could change again on the way home,
couldn't I? And if Marjorie didn't know, she wouldn't----"

"You've surrounded the plot of the piece," says I. "Now go to it.
There's a gents' furnisher down in the arcade."