I may be wrong but this is my belief. And
in the case of the man he usually makes a number of false starts.
You go to the portals and hesitate and then, stumbling across the
threshold, you either dive on through to the barber shop--if there
is a barber shop in connection--or else you mumble something about
being in a hurry and coming back again, and retreat with all the
grace and ease that would be shown by a hard shell crab that was
trying to back into the mouth of a milkbottle. You are likely to
do this several times; but finally some day you stick. You slump
down into one of those little chairs and offer your hands or one
of them to a calm and slightly arrogant looking young lady and you
tell her to please shine them up a little. You endeavor to appear
as though you had been doing this at frequent periods stretching
through a great number of years, but she--bless her little heart!--
she knows better than that. The female of the manicuring species
is not to be deceived by any such cheap and transparent artifices.
If you wore a peekaboo waist she couldn't see through you any
easier.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93