The Clown turned his powdered face to the mirror. ‘If to be fair is to be beautiful,’ he said, ‘who can compare with me in my white mask?’ ‘Who can compare with him in his white mask?’ I asked of Death beside me. ‘Who can compare with me?’ said Death, ‘for I am paler still.’ ‘You are very beautiful,’ sighed the Clown, turning his powdered face from the mirror.
