Then she dropped her eyes, to lift them again, laughing.
"If our friends could see us now," she said.

"Look at us.

Have you ever paused for a moment to consider our appearance ?" "Yes, I have considered yours, frequently," I answered, puzzling over what I had seen in her eyes and puzzled by her sudden change of subject.
"Mercy!" she cried.

"And what do I look like, pray ?" "A scarecrow, I'm afraid," I replied.

"Just glance at your draggled skirts, for instance.