ching; the door flew open and the
junior directors went sliding down the banisters to the
accompaniment of howls.

Cabinski calmly proceeded to read over again the invitation.

"At what time do you wish to invite them?"

"After the performance."

"You'll have to ask some of the reporters. But that must be done
personally."

"I haven't time."

"Ask someone from the chorus to write the invitations for you."

"Bah! And let them make stupid mistakes? Perhaps you will write them
for me, Pepa? . . . You have a neat hand."

"No, it's not proper that I, the wife of the director, should write
to strange men. I told that . . . what is the name of the girl whom
you engaged for the chorus? . . ."

"Orlowska."

"Yes . . . I told her to come here to-day. I like her. Kaczkowska
told me that she plays the piano excellently, so the thought struck
me that . . ."

"Well then, let her write the invitations; if she plays the piano,
she must also know how to write."

"Not only that, but I think that she could teach Jadzia how to
play . . ."

"Do you know, that's not at all a bad idea! . . . We might include
that in her future salary."

"How much are you paying her?" she asked, lighting a cigarette.

"I have not yet agreed upon a price . . . but I will pay her as much
as I pay the others," he answered with a strange smile.

"Which means that . . ."

"That I'll pay her a great, a great deal . . . in the future."

"Ha! ha! ha!"

Both began to laugh, and then became silent.

"John, what do you propose for the supper?"

"I don't know as yet . . . I'll talk it over at the restaurant.
We'll arrange it somehow . . ."

Cabinski proceeded to make a clean copy of the invitation, while
Pepa sat in a rocking-chair, puffing away at her cigarette.

"John! . . . Haven't you noticed anything peculiar about Majkowska's
acting, recently?"

"No, nothing . . . if she performs a little spasmodically, that's
merely her style."

"A little! . . . Why, she goes into epileptic fits! The editor told
me the papers are calling attention to it."

"For God's sake, Pepa! Do you want to drive away our best actress?
You ousted Nicolette, who had a gallery of her own."

"Well, and you had a great liking for her too; I happen to know
something about that."

"And I could tell you something about that editor of yours . . ."

"What business is that of yours! . . . Do I interfere when you go
prowling about backrooms with chorus girls?"

"B