"Old man," he declared, "you're great! Order what you like. We will eat
it--somehow, won't we, Rosine?"

She laughed assent.

"For me," she begged, "some caviare, and afterwards an omelette."

"Consomme and dry biscuits--and some fruit!" Ella suggested.

Macheson gave the order and filled their glasses. It was half-past two,
and people were beginning to stream in. Unattached ladies strolled down
the room--looking for a friend--or to make one. Their more fortunate
sisters of the "haute demi-monde" were beginning to arrive with their
escorts, from the restaurants and cafes. Greetings were shouted up and
down the room. Suddenly Ella's face clouded over again. It was the girl
in blue, with whom Macheson had danced at Lesueur's, who had just
entered with a party of friends, women in lace coats and wonderful opera
cloaks, the men all silk-hatted--the shiniest silk hats in Europe--white
gloves, supercilious and immaculate. A burst of applause greeted her,
as, with her blue skirts daringly lifted, she danced down the room to
the table which was hastily being prepared for them. Her piquant face
was wreathed with smiles, she shouted greetings everywhere, and when she
saw Macheson, she threw him kisses with both hands, which he stood up
and gallantly returned. She was the centre of attraction until
Mademoiselle Anna from the Circus arrived, and to reach her place leaped
lightly over an intervening table, with a wonderful display of red silk
stocking and filmy lingerie. The place became gayer and noisier every
moment. Greetings were shouted from table to table. The spirit of
Bohemianism seemed to flash about the place like quicksilver. People who
were complete strangers drank one another's health across the room. The
hard-worked waiters were rushing frantically about. The popping of corks
was almost incessant, a blue haze of tobacco smoke hung about the room.
Macheson, leaning back in his place, watched with eyes that missed
little. He saw the keen-faced little man whose identity mademoiselle had
disclosed, calmly fold up his paper, light a cigarette, and stroll
across the room to a table nearly opposite. A man was sitting there with
a couple of women--a big man with a flushed face and tumbled hair. The
waiter was opening a magnum of champagne--everything seemed to promise a
cheerful time for the trio. Then a word was whispered in his ear. The
newcomer bowed apologetically to the ladies and accepted a glass of
wine. But a mome