"Yes, but I am afraid--the fact is I am dreadfully tired."

"Oh, just as you like."

Then at the end of an irritating silence, "I am afraid you will have
to wait, I do not think I shall be able to get your carriage yet
awhile; in a few minutes this crowd will disperse. No use getting
crushed to death! What became of Harding and Fletcher? Did they remain
long with you?"

"No, not very, they went away just before you came. There is Mr.
Harding. How did you like the piece, Mr. Harding?"

"I always enjoy these pieces, they are so conscientiously illiterate;
what I can't bear is unconscientious illiterateness. Nellie Farren has
caught something of the jangle of modern life; she has something of
the freshness of the music-hall about her that appeals to me very
sharply."

"Do you like music-halls? I have always heard they were so vulgar."

"Vulgarity is surely preferable to popularity. The theatre is merely
popular."

While Harding was thus exerting himself with epigram, Fletcher stood
tall and slender, with a grey overcoat hanging over his arm, and his
intense eyes fixed on Lady Seveley. His gaze troubled her, and when he
withdrew his eyes she looked at him, anticipant and fearing. He spoke
to her until Frank, feeling that he was receding out of all interest
and attention, said abruptly, "If you will come now, Lady Seveley, I