Annabel appeared. Mrs. Feversham in
the opposite box raised her lorgnette.

"I wonder who they are," she said. "Why, the girl in white looks like Miss
Atkins, who writes the society news, and there is your reporter, Daniels."

"Other man is Lucky Banks; stunning woman in pink must be his wife."
Frederic, having settled in his chair and eased his lame knee, focussed
his own glasses.

"George, Marcia," he exclaimed, "do you see that necklace? Nuggets,
straight from the sluices of the Annabel, I bet. Nuggets strung with
emeralds, and each as big as they grow. I suppose that chain is what you
call barbarous, but I rather like it."

"It is fit for a queen," admitted Marcia. "One of those barbarian queens
we read about. No ordinary woman could wear it, but it seems made for her
throat." And she added, dropping her lorgnette to turn her calculating
glance on her brother's face, "Every woman her price."

Frederic laughed shortly. The purplish flush deepened in his cheeks, and
his eyes rested on Beatriz Weatherbee. She was seated in the front of the
box with Elizabeth, and as she leaned forward a little, stirred by the
passionate cry of the violins, her profile was turned to him.

"The price doesn't cut as much figure as you think," he said.

Then the curtain rose. Tarquina was a marvelous Carmen. The Society
Editor, who had taken her notebook surreptitiously from a silk evening bag
and, under cover of a chiffon scarf, commenced to record the names and
gowns of important personages, got no farther than the party in the
opposite box during the first act. But she made amends in the
intermission. It was then a smile suddenly softened her firm mouth, and
she introduced Annabel to her columns with this item.

"Noticeable among the out of town guests were Mr. and Mrs. John Henry
Banks, who entertained a box party, following a charming dinner at the New
Washington. Mrs. Banks, a recent bride, was handsomely gowned in pink
chiffon over messaline, and wore a unique necklace of nuggets which were
gathered from her husband's mine near Iditarod, Alaska. The gold pieces
were linked lengthwise, alternating with single emeralds, and the pendant
was formed of three slender nuggets, each terminating in a matched diamond
and emerald."

While Geraldine wrote this, Frederic Morganstein made his way laboriously,
with the aid of a crutch, around to the box. "How do do, Miss Atkins," he
said. "Hello, Daniels! Well, Mr. Banks, how are you? Gre