oo late now. I don't understand you I won't and I can't trust
myself to talk this evening. May I call to-morrow?

She. Yes. No! Oh, give me time! The day after. I get into my 'rickshaw
here and meet Him at Peliti's. You ride.

He. I'll go on to Peliti's too. I think I want a drink. My world's
knocked about my ears and the stars are falling. Who are those brutes
howling in the Old Library?

She. They're rehearsing the singing-quadrilles for the Fancy Ball. Can't
you hear Mrs. Buzgago's voice? She has a solo. It's quite a new idea.
Listen!

Mrs. Buzgago (in the Old Library, con molt. exp.).

See-saw! Margery Daw!

Sold her bed to lie upon straw.

Wasn't she a silly slut

To sell her bed and lie upon dirt?

Captain Congleton, I'm going to alter that to 'flirt.' It sounds better.

He. No, I've changed my mind about the drink. Good-night, little lady. I
shall see you to-morrow?

She. Ye es. Good-night, Guy. Don't be angry with me.

He. Angry! You know I trust you absolutely. Good-night and God bless
you!

(Three seconds later. Alone.) Hmm! I'd give something to discover
whether there's another man at the back of all this.

A SECOND-RATE WOMAN

Est fuga, volvitur rota,
On we drift: where looms the dim port?
One Two Three Four Five contribute their quota:
Something is gained if one caught but the import,
Show it us, Hugues of Saxe-Gotha.
--Master Hugues of Saxe-Gotha.

'Dressed! Don't tell me that woman ever dressed in her life. She stood
in the middle of the room while her ayah no, her husband it must have
been a man threw her clothes at her. She then did her hair with her
fingers, and rubbed her bonnet in the flue under the bed. I know she
did, as well as if I had assisted at the orgy. Who is she?' said Mrs.
Hauksbee.

'Don't!' said Mrs. Mallowe feebly. 'You make my head ache. I am
miserable to-day. Stay me with fondants, comfort me with chocolates, for
I am. Did you bring anything from Peliti's?'

'Questions to begin with. You shall have the sweets when you have
answered them. Who and what is the creature? There were at least
half-a-dozen men round her, and she appeared to be going to sleep in
their midst.'

'Delville,' said Mrs. Mallowe, "'Shady" Delville, to distinguish her
from Mrs. Jim of that ilk. She dances as untidily as she dresses, I
believe, and her husband is somewhere in Madras. Go and call, if you are
so interested.'

'What have I