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Updated: May 9, 2025
"About a thousand times gladder than if I were in Heaven, unless you happened to be sitting beside me on the golden stairs. And if you think I don't know how long it is since I've seen you, you are mightily mistaken. It is precisely one million years in round numbers." "Oh, it is?" Tony smiled, appeased. "Why didn't you say so before, and not leave me to squeeze it out of you like tooth-paste?"
"Hair-brushes and combs and towels and soap, and your tooth-brush and mine, and the tooth-paste," answered Mrs. Horton. "And pajamas for you and a nightie for me, in case we can't get the trunk to-night." "But it is going on the train just like us," urged Sunny Boy. "Daddy said so." "But it will be nearly night before we reach Brookside," explained Mrs.
Mother took a week to pack, and unpack, to go panting down-stairs to the corner drug-store for new tubes of tooth-paste and a presentable sponge, to remend all that was remendable, to press Father's flappy, shapeless little trousers with the family flat-iron, to worry over whether she should take the rose-pink or the daffodil-yellow wrapper which had both faded to approximately the same shade of gray, but which were to her trusting mind still interestingly different.
"I hope you can undertake this commission," she said pleadingly. "I shall be delighted," said Paul. "I am rather busy just now, but I could begin at two o'clock on Monday." "Excellent," said the Duchess. "Till Monday, then." And Paul, still clutching the tooth-paste, conducted her to her carriage. Punctually at 3.15 on Monday Lady Hermione appeared.
"How do you do, Mr Samways?" said the Duchess. "G good-afternoon," said Paul, embarrassed both by the presence of a duchess in his studio and by his sudden discovery that he was touching up a sunset with a tube of carbolic tooth-paste. "Our mutual friend, Lord Ernest Topwood, recommended me to come to you."
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