a lady who is above that sort of thing: a
disappointment, that was all.

"But how will those small artistes manage?" she seemed to say. "Those
families with babies?"

Lily declared that it was very sad, called Glass-Eye to witness, as usual;
but poor Glass-Eye remained dumb, reflected that she would never, never be
paid, if this went on. Lily owed her eighteen months' wages now! True, she
got enough to eat, or nearly; she traveled with Lily; and she wore her old
hats.

Meanwhile, the door opened; the artistes were allowed to take away the
implements of their work, before the final closing. The move began: they
fetched out basket trunks, hoisted packing-cases on to cabs. It was a
heartrending sight, all those things, made for the glitter of the
footlights, now displayed in the street. And everybody made such haste as
he could, under the eyes of the inquisitive passers-by, for fear of a
general execution, with every door sealed up and days to wait before one
could recover one's property. Fellow-artistes from other theaters came to
look on. Some were indignant that the Artistes' Federation could not take
up the matter and hurl the experience of its lawyers at the heads of the
proprietor or syndicate responsible, to say nothing of the moral weight of
its five thousand members, who had already made the English music-halls
come to terms by means of a wholesale strike. Others observed that it was
a private theater, one of those theaters run, for the fun of it, by some
prosperous gambler or lucky bookmaker; a sort of harem theater, with
almost empty houses, but with swells on the stage, among the swarm of
half-naked women; and no one responsible, the old boy ruined, the treasury
empty, bankruptcy; couldn't be helped; take in your belt a peg, that's
all!

"What do you think of this, eh, Lily?" asked a voice. "Only yesterday we
were passing the hat for others!"

Lily still had the list; and the money was locked up in one of the
dressing-rooms. Then it passed from mouth to mouth, like a watchword: they
would give back the collection; but not in the street, not before
everybody, for the honor of the profession. Lily, quite excited, entered
the passage and there, in the dim light, assisted by two one-legged
artistes, who called out the amounts and ticked off the names, she handed
back the collection of the previous day. Some received their share with an
air of furious determination; others looked shy and blushed; others,
again