"I'll put them back on
again."
"No, no; don't do that!" She rallied herself to the point of
laughing a little. "I'm a goose. You see, I've pictured you as
quite different. Have you ever seen yourself in the glass with
those dreadful disguises on?"
"Why, no; I don't suppose I have," he replied, after reflection.
"After all, they're meant for use, not for ornament."
By this time she had mastered her confusion and was able to
examine his face. Under his eyes were circles of dull gray,
defined by deep lines,
"Why, you're worn out!" she cried pitifully. "Haven't you been
sleeping?"
"Not much."
"You must take something for it." The mothering instinct sprang to
the rescue. "How much rest did you get last night?"
"Let me see. Last night I did very well. Fully four hours."
"And that is more than you average?"
"Well, yes; lately. You see, I've been pretty busy."
"Yet you've given up your time to my wretched, unimportant little
stupid affairs! And what return have I made?"
"You've made the sun shine," he said, "in a rather shaded
existence."
"Promise me that you'll sleep to-night; that you won't work a
stroke.
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