Mallowe.

'I've caught him!' said Mrs. Hauksbee: her eyes were dancing with
merriment.

'Who is it, mad woman? I'm sorry I ever spoke to you about it.'

'Look between the pillars. In the third row; fourth from the end.
You can see his face now. Look!'

'Otis Yeere! Of all the improbable and impossible people! I don't
believe you.'

'Hsh! Wait till Mrs. Tarkass begins murdering Milton Wellings;
and I'll tell you all about it. S-s-ss! That woman's voice always
reminds me of an Underground train coming into Earl's Court with
the brakes on. Now listen. It is really Otis Yeere.'

'So I see, but does it follow that he is your property!'

'He is! By right of trove. I found him, lonely and unbefriended, the
very next night after our talk, at the Dugald Delanes' burra-khana. I
liked his eyes, and I talked to him. Next day he called. Next day
we went for a ride together, and to-day he's tied to my
'richshaw-wheels hand and foot. You'll see when the concert's
over. He doesn't know I'm here yet.'

'Thank goodness you haven't chosen a boy. What are you going to
do with him, assuming that you've got him?'