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Dickie regarded him gravely. "The ocean is the best test for a man or a woman that I know. It doesn't play any favorites. When a girl goes out there all 'dolled-up' it washes off the paint and powder and shows her up for just what she is. And it shows a man up too. It's always waiting for him to make some mistake. When he does, he has to think and act at the same time.
But before he had hardly opened his mouth, a well-dressed man came from somewhere and threw him half across the room. And who do you think it was?" Again Gregory shook his head. "Bandrist." As Gregory voiced his surprise, the girl went on: "You wouldn't have known him. He was all dolled-up and looked like a different man.
"I'd like to hear you play, if you will," he answered, wondering in his heart if, after all, a dolled-up instrument like that was really meant to be played upon. Gila pouted. She did not want to play, but she would not seem to refuse the challenge.
For instance, he disliked the statues of the saints exceedingly. They worried him. "I can't seem to stand a man dolled-up in skirts," he confessed. "Any more than I'd be stuck on a dame with whiskers. It don't somehow look right to me. Put the he-saints in pants instead of those brown kimonas with gold crocheting and a rope sash, and I'd have more respect for 'em."
Certain it is that they who picture a French-heeled, fur-coated, dolled-up creature as the “typical factory girl” are far wide of the mark. The one characteristic which so far does seem pretty universal is that one and all, no matter what the age or looks, are perfectly willing to tell you everything they know on short acquaintance.
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