"Now!" said Angelica, and they repeated the parody together, Angelica
making a perfect second to Diavolo's exquisite treble.

Evadne looked up from her work surprised. Her own voice was contralto, but
it would have taken her a week to learn to sing a second from the notes,
and she had never dreamt of making one.

"I didn't know you could sing," she said.

"Oh, yes, we can sing," Angelica answered cheerfully. "We've a decided
talent for music."

"Angelica can make a song in a moment," said Diavolo. "Let me paint your
nose green, Evadne."

"You can paint mine if you like," said Angelica.

"No, I shan't. I shall paint my own."

"No, you paint mine, and I'll paint yours," Angelica suggested.

"Well, both together, then," Diavolo answered.

"Honest Injin," Angelica agreed, and they set to work.

Evadne sat with her embroidery in her lap and watched them. Their faces
would have to be washed in any case, and they might as well be washed for
an acre as for an inch of paint. She never nagged with, "Don't do this,"
and "Don't do that" about everything, if their offences could be summed
up, and wiped out in some such way all at once.