"I might get a coat and skirt," she remarked thoughtfully, "and a
simple white dress. A black hat would do for both of them, then."

"Don't you study your brother too much," Laverick declared. "His
stock is going up all the time."

"Tell me your favorite color," she begged confidentially.

"I can't conceive your looking nicer than you do in black," he
replied.

She made a wry face.

"I suppose it must be black," she murmured doubtfully. "It is much
more economical than anything - "

She broke off to bow to a stout, red-faced man who, after a rude
stare, had greeted her with a patronizing nod. Laverick frowned.

"Who is that fellow?" he asked.

"Mr. Heepman, our stage-manager," Zoe answered, a little timidly.

"Is there any particular reason why he should behave like a boor?"
Laverick continued, raising his voice a little.

She caught at his arm in terror. The man was sitting at the next
table.

"Don't, please!" she implored. "He might hear you. He is just