or what?"

"I said nine, and it's past that now. It's quite possible they may
not turn up after all.... Anyway, don't wait."

"I would prefer to start at once," said Backhouse.

The lounge, a lofty room, forty feet long by twenty wide, had been
divided for the occasion into two equal parts by a heavy brocade
curtain drawn across the middle. The far end was thus concealed.
The nearer half had been converted into an auditorium by a crescent
of armchairs. There was no other furniture. A large fire was burning
halfway along the wall, between the chairbacks and the door. The
room was brilliantly lighted by electric bracket lamps. A sumptuous
carpet covered the floor.

Having settled his guests in their seats, Faull stepped up to the
curtain and flung it aside. A replica, or nearly so, of the Drury
Lane presentation of the temple scene in The Magic Flute was then
exposed to view: the gloomy, massive architecture of the interior,
the glowing sky above it in the background, and, silhouetted against
the latter, the gigantic seated statue of the Pharaoh. A
fantastically carved wooden couch lay before the pedestal of the
statue. Near the curtain, obliquely placed to the auditorium, was a
plain oak armchair, for the use of the medium.

Many of those present felt privately that the setting was quite
inappropriate to the occasion and savoured rather unpleasantly of
ostentation. Backhouse in particular seemed put out. The usual
compliments, however, were showered on Mrs. Trent as the deviser of