slaving her head off
all through the road-tour and then fire her before the New York
opening."

"But it's a shame! It isn't fair!"

"If one is expecting to be treated fairly," said the Duchess with a
prolonged yawn, "one should not go into the show-business."

And, having uttered this profoundly true maxim, she fell asleep again.

The slumber of the Duchess was the signal for a general move. Her
somnolence was catching. The restorative effects of the meal were
beginning to wear off. There was a call for a chorus rehearsal at four
o'clock, and it seemed the wise move to go to bed and get some sleep
while there was time. The Duchess was roused from her dreams by means
of a piece of ice from one of the tumblers; bills were paid; and the
company poured out, yawning and chattering, into the sunlight of the
empty boardwalk.

Jill detached herself from the group, and made her way to a seat
facing the sea. Tiredness had fallen upon her like a leaden weight,
crushing all the power out of her limbs, and the thought of walking to
the boarding-house where, from motives of economy, she was sharing a
room with the Cherub, paralysed her.

It was a perfect morning, clear and cloudless, with the warm
freshness of a day that means to be hotter later on. The sea sparkled
in the sun. Little waves broke lazily on the grey sand. Jill closed
her eyes, for the brightness of sun and water was trying; and her
thoughts went back to what the Cherub had said.

If Wally was really going to rewrite the play, they would be thrown
together. She would be obliged to meet him, and she was not sure that
she was ready to meet him. Still, he would be somebody to talk to on
subjects other than the one eternal topic of the theatre, somebody who
belonged to the old life. She had ceased to regard Freddie Rooke in
this light; for Freddie, solemn with his new responsibilities as a
principal, was the most whole-hearted devotee of "shop" in the
company. Freddie nowadays declined to consider any subject for
conversation that did not have to do with "The Rose of America" in
general and his share in it in particular. Jill had given him up, and
he had paired off with Nelly Bryant. The two were inseparable. Jill
had taken one or two meals with them, but Freddie's professional
monologues, of which Nelly seemed never to weary, were too much for
her. As a result she was now very much alone. There were girls in the
company whom she liked, but most of them had their