pper.

Next came shopping, through the windows. She bought a pair of thread
gloves for Glass-Eye at Lewis's and then went in and lay on her bed,
feeling ever so tired from getting up late that morning. She dreamed and
dreamed, while Glass-Eye went marketing. As soon as Lily was alone, the
thought pricked her like a pin: looking pretty, indeed! Her gentlemen
friends! Jimmy, that traitor, and Trampy! Trampy would be sure to play her
some dirty trick. Oh, if she could get a divorce from him, in spite of
all! She had made inquiries in London. She would want a solicitor. She
must have one, to set inquiries on foot.... She could have as many
witnesses as she pleased: all those girls ... and the stage hands ... and
two artistes, on the day when Trampy, in his fury, had flung his bike at
her on the stairs; the pedal had grazed her temple, yes, at Dresden. That
wasn't the way to treat a lady. Everything that had happened was his
fault; and they'd see who won the day, he or she. Her forehead wrinkled up
with anger when she thought of it. She bit her lips and clenched her fists
and then ... and then ... enough of that! She'd see to-morrow. And other
cares came to bother her: the indispensable things which she would have to
buy at the end of the week out of her salary; open-work stockings, an
aigrette for the theater, a little black bog-oak pig to wear at her wrist.
And Jimmy's thousand marks ...

"Damn it, let him wait!" And, with her hand on her lucky charm, Lily fell
asleep.

In the evening, at the theater, she forgot everything. She felt a longing,
a fevered desire to appear. When her turn came, after the xylophones, who
seemed, behind their tables laden with bottles, to be keeping a bar of
musical sounds; when the light shining on the great back-drop threw up
into dazzling relief the blue sea, the blue sky and the white colonnade
and terraces; when, amid the flash of the lime-light and the thunder of
the orchestra, she made her entrance on the stage, Lily had a smile of
triumph. Life was beginning for her at last! She could have cried out for
happiness to that human mass which, behind the flaming streak of the
footlights, spread itself, bare-necked and bedizened, in the warm shadow
of the front boxes. And she directed a scarlet smile, set off with a glint
of gold, to the audience.

"I believe I was grand to-night," said Lily, as she went off, out of
breath. "Oh, if there had been an agent in the house! But no such luck:
th