and of course they're not called Galleotti. The woman is a Mrs.
Briggs, and the tallest of the men is her husband. The other two are no
relation. I don't know their names, but Tim will introduce us."

I looked at my programme again. It was under the name of the Galleotti
Family that the acrobats performed.

"That will be most interesting," I said.

"I'm afraid it won't," said Gorman. "People like that are usually
quite stupid. However Mrs. Ascher wanted it, so of course I made
arrangements."

Mrs. Ascher evidently wanted to see life, the most real kind of life,
thoroughly. Not contented with having the doorkeeper of a cheap circus
sitting, so to speak, in her lap all evening, she was now bent on
sharing a meal with a troupe of acrobats.

"It's rather unlucky," Gorman went on, "but Mrs. Briggs simply refuses
to go to the Plaza. I had a table engaged there."

"How regal of you, Gorman!" I said.

"You'd have thought she'd have liked it," he said. "But she made a fuss
about clothes. It's extraordinary how women will."

"You can hardly blame her," I said; "I expect the head waiter would turn
her out if she appeared in that get-up of hers. Very absurd of him, of
course, but----"

I was not conscious that my eyes had wandered to Mrs. Ascher's dress
until Gorman winked at me. Fortunately Ascher noticed neither my glance
nor Gorman's wink. I had not thought of suggesting that Mrs. Briggs'
stage costume was no more daring than what Mrs. Ascher wore.

"Of course," said Ascher, "she wouldn't come to supper in tights. It's
her other clothes she's thinking of. I daresay they are shabby."

I could understand what Mrs. Briggs felt. Gorman could not. I do not
think that any feeling about the shabbiness of his coat would make him
hesitate about dining with an Emperor.

"I hope you won't mind," he said to Ascher, "but we're going to rather a
third-rate little place."

Gorman had evidently meant to do us well in the way of supper, champagne
probably. He may have had the idea that good food would soften Ascher's
heart towards the cash register scheme, but Mrs. Ascher's insistence on
meeting the Galleotti family spoiled the whole plan. We could not talk
business across Mrs. Briggs, so it mattered little what sort of supper
we had.

Mrs. Ascher left her seat and joined us. Tim, looking more nervous than
ever, followed her at a distance.

"Take me out of this," she said to me. "Take me out of this or I shall
go mad. That dre