eat me fair," said Lily, "but I've forgotten most of it. Oh,
don't let's talk about it any more! Let's talk of something else; let's
talk of you."

Lily knew all about their struggles, their successes; had heard of it on
the stage, in the cafes. But here, in her room, as described by Ma, she
put her finger on it, so to speak, and realized more fully what a blank
her flight had made, what a catastrophe it had been for them.

And Ma gave details, tried to interest Lily in the fate of the troupe;
told her that, for months, the troupe had been refused everywhere, because
she wasn't in it, and her Pa had to change apprentices.

"I was the troupe!" said Lily.

"Oh, the trouble your Pa took running after his own fat freaks! I thought
he would get heart-disease! And months of it, without earning a thing. Oh,
if your Pa hadn't had some money ...!"

"But he had plenty!" said Lily.

"Oh, not much, not so much as you think!" Ma hastened to say, thinking she
saw a spiteful allusion in Lily's remark.

"Yes, all right, I know," said Lily. "Never mind about that. It's my turn
to make money now, for myself."

"Still that independent spirit! We haven't got her yet!" thought Ma.

And she went on talking of the troupe, of the cousin who played the star.

"Pooh!" said Lily. "A nice sort of star!"

"It's not every one who can star in Berlin by herself, like you," said Ma.
"Do you know, Lily, you ought to stay with us: we should get on so well
together. You would manage the troupe; and, one day--who knows?--you might
make a nice marriage."

"But I am married, Ma! I didn't live with him! Do you mean to say you
think ...? Not I!"

"I know you're married, but you can get a divorce. Jimmy used to make love
to you; now there's a man who ..."

"And you used to say he was a drunkard, Ma!"

"Never!" said Ma, rising to leave.

Lily was flattered, at heart, to be received like that. She also felt
proud that her Pa had not been ashamed of her and that he had kept her
name in _The Era_. Well, they treated her as a lady, saw her value, gave
her her due. And she lay for a while enjoying her triumph, while she
turned the pages of _The Era_ in an absent-minded way: Miss This, Miss
That, Cape Town, Calcutta ... actors, singers ...

"Those aren't artistes, any of them!"

Programs, plays, songs: "_Why I Love Women_!"

"I know, you footy rotter!"

"_Is Marriage a Failure_?"

"I should think so!" thought Lily.

And articles, biographie