She leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his face and arms and hands.
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