go; given
them up; one had its neck wrung by a monkey in Chicago; another died of
consumption at Stockholm; the rest of the troupe sold to the
stage-doorkeepers of the different variety-theaters. His sight was
beginning to fail. She wanted smartness; wasn't--how should he put it? The
husband looked for a word--wasn't "Tottie" enough. However, they managed
somehow, as "eccentric duetists." Lily thought that very nice, those two
talents combined, very original; but could they give her any news of Ave
Maria ... a great artiste ... on the wire?...

If ever Lily might have hoped to receive news of Ave Maria, it was during
this illness, from the artistes who visited her, on their way from
anywhere to God knows where. Lily had news of everybody: of Mirzah, the
white elephant, who had to be pole-axed for killing his keeper; of Captain
North's seals; of the Three Graces, who were doing triumphantly in
England; of Poland, the Parisienne, now starring at Bill and Boom's. Tom
was talked about: biceps like thighs, now: a hornpipe danced on the hands.
She had news of the Pawnees, of the Hauptmanns. Roofer was sending out
four new troupes, to Canada, Australia, India, Cape Colony: the
Greater-England Girls. She had news of the New Zealanders and of her
cousin Daisy, who seemed to find the star business jolly hard work:

"The wind-bag!" said Lily.

They talked of Jimmy, of dogs, cats and monkeys and of Tom Grave and Butt
Snyders, those great breakneck acrobats: they talked of one and all, but
not a word of Ave Maria. They knew her by reputation, as one who had been
through the mill, more than Lily had, as Lily modestly admitted.

"Darling," said the impersonator affectionately, "don't bother about that
Ave Maria of yours. I'm jealous. Be mine, darling! How well we two should
get on together, eh, Lily?"

"Hands off!" said Lily. "Be good ... there ... like that ... down by your
sides ... or you'll get a smacking!"

Concerts were got up for Lily's amusement. Sketch-comedians pulled their
faces: a musician twanged his banjo. At other times, by closing her eyes,
Lily could have imagined herself in an aviary: the Whistling Wonder
imitated the nightingale, the thrush, the lark. Another, an equilibrist,
showed her how, when he was obliged to stay in bed with a broken leg and
had nobody to wait on him, he used to wait on himself by going round the
room on his hands ... like that. Lily was given, for nothing, a
performance which was worth