'Quite true; I never saw the piece go so badly. Bret was "fluffing" all
over the shop.'

Kate listened to these fragments of conversation, asked herself how she was
to walk in upon those people and tell them that they must keep quiet.

'And the way Beaumont tries to spoon with Dick. She nearly missed her cue
once with sneaking after him in the wings.'

A peal of laughter followed. This sally determined Kate to act; and without
having made up her mind what to say, she turned the handle of the door and
walked into the room.

The three gas-burners were blazing, wine-glasses were on the table, and Mr.
Lennox stood twisting a corkscrew into a bottle which he held between his
fat thighs. On the little green sofa Miss Lucy Leslie lay back playing with
her bonnet-strings. Her legs were crossed, and a lifted skirt showed a bit
of striped stocking. Next her, with his spare legs sprawled over the arm of
the easy-chair, was Mr. Montgomery, the thinnest being possible to imagine,
in grey clothes. His nose was enormous, and he pushed up his glasses when
Kate came into the room with a movement of the left hand that was clearly
habitual. On the other side of the round table sat Mr. Joe Mortimer, the
heavy lead, the celebrated miser in the _Cloches_. A tall girl
standing behind him playfully twisted his back hair. He addressed paternal
admonitions to her from time to time in an artificially cracked voice.

'Please, sir,' said Kate pleadingly, 'I'm very sorry, but we cannot keep
open house after eleven o'clock.'

A deep silence followed this announcement. Miss Leslie looked up at Kate