in her basin.

"Have to be," said Lily. "I always wash my little blouses; we do
everything ourselves, don't we, Glass-Eye? And, when I'm performing, I
have two pairs of tights to wash a day!"

"Two pairs of tights!"

"Why, of course, matinee and night! You have no idea, Jimmy ... the nickel
... when I sit on the handle-bar, it makes a great mark ... just here,
look!"

And she laughed at Jimmy over her shoulder while she pointed to the place
... and then blushed, like a frolicsome child that has been found out and
is, oh, so sorry!

"Every one's got to keep to his own dressing-room!" said Jimmy, feeling
very uncomfortable, to the man with the green eyes. "You can't stay here;
it's against the rules!"

"We're doing no harm, please, Mr. Jimmy," retorted Lily, sitting down
beside the impersonator and slipping her arm round his waist.

"Poor Jimmy!" said the impersonator, when the other had left the room in a
rage. "He's jealous, isn't he, darling?"

"He jealous? Then why doesn't he say so? One can't guess a thing like
that! When you're a man, you speak out!"

And the architect appeared in his turn, he, too, running from one end of
the theater to the other. He wore a bandage over one eye:

"Knocked up against a beam ... a little accident. Have you seen Jimmy?"

"He's over there, I think," replied Lily, without troubling to look at
him.

There was no jealousy about the architect. He stayed for a moment, sniffed
at the scent-bottle, smiled at the photographs on the wall. A green-eyed
impersonator, a blue-eyed impersonator: the room could have been full of
impersonators, for all he cared. Dark girls, yellow girls, fair girls, so
many playthings to distract him from his rules and compasses. He was bored
at once; turned to another at once; and it was all so amusing! He was the
typical lover of the woman of the stage, with his little surface passions.
And very amiable withal, knowing them all, and friendly with them, a great
purveyor of anecdotes:

"The Para-Paras, you know, Lily, committed suicide in their room ... awful
poverty. The wife wasn't ... Tottie enough ... and the husband was
teaching the English accent to continental clowns! Poland? A magnificent
engagement in Russia. Old Martello hasn't three days to live. Oh ... and
Nunkie! There's news among the Three Graces! The troupe's done for this
time!"

And he told how, last night, poor Thea, while mending her uncle's
overcoat, found in the lining an old le