With a sigh of relief, I smiled at my companion; and it was only his
expression of surprise which reminded me that he had been seeing me "as
through a glass darkly."
I suppose, unless you are a sort of Sherlock Holmes of physiognomy, you
can't map out a woman's face by a mere glimpse of eyes through a
triangular bit of talc, already somewhat damaged by exposure to sun and
wind.
It mayn't be good manners to look a gift motor-veil in the talc, but I
must admit that, glad as I was of its protection, mine was somewhat the
worse for certain bubbles, cracks, and speckles; so whether or no Mr.
Bane or Dane may combine the science of chauffeuring with that of
physiognomy, it's certain that he had the air of being taken aback.
Of course, I know that I'm not exactly plain, and that the contrast
between my eyes and hair is a little out of the common; so, as soon as I
remembered that he hadn't seen me before, I guessed more or less what
his almost startled look meant. Still, I suppose most girls--anyway,
half-French, half-American girls--would have done exactly what I
proceeded to do.
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