the back row. I struggled past a lot of people, dropped into my place,
and watched the piece without troubling myself to see who was sitting
next to me. It was not until the _entr'acte_ that I looked round. I
felt my neighbour's eyes were fixed upon me. She was one of the
prettiest girls you ever saw in your life--a blonde face, pale brown
hair, and such wonderful teeth--her laughter, I assure you, was
beautiful. I asked her what she thought of the piece. She looked away
and didn't answer. It was rather a slap in the face for me, but I am
not easily done. I immediately said: 'I should have apologised before
for the way I inconvenienced you in crushing into my seat, but,
really, the place is so narrow that you don't know how to get by.'
This rather stumped her, she was obliged to say something. The girl on
the other side (not half a bad looking girl, short brown curly hair,
rather a roguish face) was the most civil at first. She wasn't as
pretty as the one next to me, but she spoke the more willingly; the
one next to me tried to prevent her. However, I got on with them, one
thing led to another, and when the piece was over, I fetched their
hats and coats and we walked a little way up the street together. I
tried to get them to come to supper; they couldn't do that, for they
had to be in at a certain time, so we went to Gatti's and had some
coffee. I couldn't make out for a long time what they were; they were
evidently not prostitutes, and they did not seem to me to be quite
ladies. What do you think they were?"

"I haven't an idea--actresses?"

"No. They wouldn't tell me for a long time. I got it out of them at
last; they're at the bar in the Gaiety Restaurant."

"Bar girls?"