``Did it work?''

Billy made a gesture of despair.

``Did it work! It worked too well. Marie gave
me one horrified look, then at once and immediately
she became possessed with the idea that she
_was_ a dowdy woman. And from that day to
this she has pursued every lurking wrinkle and
every fold awry, until her dressmaker's life isn't
worth the living; and I'm beginning to think
mine isn't, either, for I have to assure her at
least four times every day now that she is _not_
a dowdy woman.''

``You poor dear,'' laughed Bertram. ``No
wonder you don't have time to give to me!''

A peculiar expression crossed Billy's face.

``Oh, but I'm not the _only_ one who, at times,
is otherwise engaged, sir,'' she reminded him.

``What do you mean?''

``There was yesterday, and last Monday, and
last week Wednesday, and--''

``Oh, but you _let_ me off, then,'' argued
Bertram, anxiously. ``And you said--''