Besides, I could never bear to become--less attractive than I am now." "Poison!" said Mr.Golightly Ticke, with an involuntarily horrified face.

Elfrida's hand was hanging over the edge of the table, and he made as if he would examine the ring without the formality of asking leave.
She drew her fingers away instantly.

"In the vernacular," she answered coolly.

"You may not touch it." "I beg your pardon.

But how awfully chic!" "It _is_ chic, isn't it?
Not so very old, you know." Elfrida raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips a little.
"It came from Persia.