e. I moved about all over the house.
I'll tell you a secret, Archie: that carrying power was one of the first
things that put me wise. Noticed it down there in Arizona, in the open.
That, I said, belongs only to the big ones." Fred got up and began to
move rhythmically about the room, his hands in his pockets. The doctor
was astonished at his ease and steadiness, for there were slight lapses
in his speech. "You see, Archie, ELSA isn't a part that's particularly
suited to Thea's voice at all, as I see her voice. It's over-lyrical for
her. She makes it, but there's nothing in it that fits her like a glove,
except, maybe, that long duet in the third act. There, of course,"--he
held out his hands as if he were measuring something,--"we know exactly
where we are. But wait until they give her a chance at something that
lies properly in her voice, and you'll see me rosier than I am
to-night."

Archie smoothed the tablecloth with his hand. "I am sure I don't want to
see you any rosier, Fred."

Ottenburg threw back his head and laughed. "It's enthusiasm, doctor.
It's not the wine. I've got as much inflated as this for a dozen trashy
things: brewers' dinners and political orgies. You, too, have your
extravagances, Archie. And what I like best in you is this particular
enthusiasm, which is not at all practical or sensible, which is
downright Quixotic. You are not altogether what you seem, and you have
your reservations. Living among the wolves, you have not become one.
LUPIBUS VIVENDI NON LUPUS SUM."

The doctor seemed embarrassed. "I was just thinking how tired she
looked, plucked of all her fine feathers, while we get all the fun.
Instead of sitting here carousing, we ought to go solemnly to bed."

"I get your idea." Ottenburg crossed to the window and threw it open.
"Fine night outside; a hag of a moon just setting. It begins to smell
like morning. After all, Archie, think of the lonely and rather solemn
hours we've spent waiting for all this, while she's been--reveling."

Archie lifted his brows. "I somehow didn't get the idea to-night that
she revels much."

"I don't mean this sort of thing." Fred turned toward the light and
stood with his back to the window. "That," with a nod toward the
wine-cooler, "is only a cheap imitation, that any poor stiff-fingered
fool can buy and feel his shell grow thinner. But take it from me, no
matter what she pays, or how much she may see fit to lie about it, the
real, the master revel