"You're living like a wild beast here, Josh," he presently called out.

"You must get a valet." A loud laugh was the reply.
"Or a wife," continued Arkwright.

Then, in the voice of one announcing an inspiration, "Yes--that's it! A wife!" Craig reappeared.

He had on his waistcoat and coat now, and his hair was brushed.

Arkwright could not but admit that the personality took the edge off the clothes; even the "mottled mica"-- the rent was completely hid--seemed to have lost the worst of its glaze and stiffness.