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I did it to please you, she sobbed.
It is only the lowest class of dancingwomen who paint their
faces in England, said I, _splendide mendax._ And you know
what they are in Alexandretta.
They came to AzizaZaza's wedding, said Carlotta, behind her
handkerchief. But all our ladies do this when they want to make
themselves look nice. And I have put on this nasty thing that
hurts me, just to please Seer Marcous.
I felt I had been brutal. She must have spent hours over her
adornment. Yet I could not have taken her out into the street.
She looked like Jezebel, who without her paint must have been,
like Carlotta, a remarkably handsome person.
It strikes me, Carlotta, said I, that you will find England is
Alexandretta upside down. What is wrong there is right here, and
vice versa. Now if you want to please me run away and clean
yourself and take off those barbaric and Brummagem earrings.
She went and was absent a short while. She returned in dismay.
Water would not get it off. I rang for Antoinette, but
Antoinette had gone out. It being too delicate a matter for
Stenson, I fetched a pot of vaseline from my own room, and as
Carlotta did not know what to make of it, I with my own hands
cleansed Carlotta. She screamed with delight, thinking it vastly
amusing. Her emotions are facile. I cannot deny that it amused
me too. But I am in a responsible position, and I am wondering
what the deuce I shall be doing next.
I enjoyed the drive to Richmond, where I gave her tea at the Star
and Garter and was relieved to see her drink normally from the
cup, instead of lapping from the saucer like a kitten. She was
much more intelligent than during our first drive on Tuesday.
The streets have grown more familiar, and the traffic does not
make her head ache. She asks me the ingenuous questions of a
child of ten. The tall guardsmen we passed particularly aroused
her enthusiasm. She had never seen anything so beautiful. I
asked her if she would like me to buy one and give it her to play
with.
Oh, would you, Seer Marcous? she exclaimed, seizing my hand
rapturously. I verily believe she thought I was in earnest, for
when I turned aside my jest, she pouted in disappointment and
declared that it was wrong to tell lies.
I am glad you have some elementary notions of ethics, said I.
It was during our drive that it occurred to me to ask her where
she had procured the paint and earrings. She explained,

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