so. But as he had no intention of being athletic anywhere, with or
without a cap, he determined as he went up the stairs that he would
follow Mr Holroyd's advice. Mr Holroyd's procedure, without this added
formula, entailed sitting "till it dried," and after that he would have
dinner, and then Mr Holroyd would begin again. He was a very clever
person with regard to the face and the hands and the feet. Georgie had
been conscious of walking a little lamely lately; he had been even more
conscious of the need of hot towels on his face and the "tap-tap" of Mr
Holroyd's fingers, and the stretchings of Mr Holroyd's thumb across
rather slack surfaces of cheek and chin. In the interval between the
hair and the face, Mr Holroyd should have a good supper downstairs with
Foljambe and the cook. And tomorrow morning, when he met Hermy and
Ursy, Georgie would be just as spick and span and young as ever, if not
more so.

Georgie (happy innocent!) was completely unaware that the whole of
Riseholme knew that the smooth chestnut locks which covered the top of
his head, were trained like the tendrils of a grapevine from the roots,
and flowed like a river over a bare head, and consequently when Mr
Holroyd explained the proposed innovation, a little central wig, the
edges of which would mingle in the most natural manner with his own
hair, it seemed to Georgie that nobody would know the difference. In
addition he would be spared those risky moments when he had to take off
his hat to a friend in a high wind, for there was always the danger of
his hair blowing away from the top of his head, and hanging down, like
the tresses of a Rhine-maiden over one shoulder. So Mr Holroyd was
commissioned to put that little affair in hand at once, and when the
greyness had been attended to, and Georgie had had his dinner, there
came hot towels and tappings on his face, and other ministrations. All
was done about half past ten, and when he came downstairs again for a