ghed softly.

"I am the best hated man in New York tonight." Then he asked abruptly:
"If you wish to avoid fashionable society why not see something of
this? It would be quite a new experience and vary the monotony of
books and plays."

"I may--some time, if you will kindly arrange it. But I am not a
stranger to the cognoscenti. In London, of course, they are received,
sought after. In Paris not so much, but one still meets them.--the
most distinguished. In Berlin the men might go to court but not the
women. In Vienna--well, genius will not give quarterings. But alas!
so many gifted people seem to come out of the bourgeoisie, or lower
down still--whether they are received or not depends largely on their
table manners."

"Oh, I assure you, our cognoscenti have very good table manners indeed!"

"I am sure of it," she said graciously. "I have an idea that American
table manners are the best in the world. Is it true that one never
sees toothpicks on the table here?"

"Good lord, yes!"

"Well, you see them on every aristocratic table in Europe, royalty not
excepted."

"One more reason for revolution---- Oh! Hang it!"

The lights had gone out. Clavering half rose, then settled himself
back and folded his arms. A man stood over him. "Just take my seat,
Billy, will you?" he asked casually of the eminent critic. "It's only
two back."

The eminent critic gave him a look of hate, emitted a noise that
resembled a hiss, hesitated long enough to suggest violence, then with
the air of a bloodhound with his tail between his legs, slunk up the
aisle.

"Will you tell me how you always manage to get one of these prize
seats?" asked Clavering at the fall of the second curtain. "Nothing in
New York is more difficult of attainment than a good seat--any
seat--for a first-night. All these people, including myself, have a
pull of some sort--know the author, star, manager. Many of us receive
notifications long in advance."

"Judge Trent has a pull, as you call it."

"That explains it. There has been almost as much speculation on that
point as about your own mysterious self. Well, this time I suppose I
must. But I'm coming back."

He gave Mr. Dinwiddie his seat and went out for a cigarette. The foyer
was full of people and he was surrounded at once. Who was she? Where
had he met her? Dog that he was to keep her to himself! Traitor! He
satisfied their curiosity briefly. He happened to know Judge Trent