k, thick mop, on his soft little neck. He submitted to the
tumbling and hugging, trying meanwhile to keep one eye upon the ship he
had been building from an upturned chair.

Breathless, Martie looked up from the embrace to see a pretty smiling
woman standing in the doorway, a wet raincoat over one arm, and a wet
hat balanced on her hand.

"Hello, people!" said the newcomer. "I'm drenched. I don't believe this
can keep up, it's frightful."

"Hello, Adele!" Martie said, setting Teddy on his feet. "Come in, and
spread those things on the heater. Sit there where your skirts will get
the heat. How was the matinee?"

"It was killing," said Mrs. Dryden, establishing herself comfortably by
the radiator. She was a slender, bright-eyed woman of perhaps thirty,
whose colouring ran to cool browns: clear brown eyes, brown hair
prettily dressed, a pale brown skin under which a trace of red only
occasionally appeared. To-day her tailor-made suit was brown, and about
her throat was a narrow boa of some brown fur. "Here, Teddy, take these
to your mother," she added, extending a crushed box half full of
chocolates. "The place was PACKED," she went on, crunching. "And, my
dear!--coming out we were right CLOSE to Doris Beresford, in the most
divine coat I ever laid eyes on! I suppose they all like to have an
idea of what's going on at the other theatres. I don't believe she uses
one bit of make-up; wonderful skin! There was such a mob in the car it
was something terrible. A man crushed up against Ethel; she said she
thought he'd break her arm! I got a seat; I don't know how it is, but I
always do. We'd been running, and I suppose my colour was high, and a
man got up IMMEDIATELY. Nice--I always thank them. I think that's the
least you can do. Ethel said he sat and stared at me all the way up to
Fifty-ninth, where he got off. He was an awfully nice-looking fellow;
I'll tell you what he looked like: a young doctor. Don't you know those
awfully CLEAN-looking men----"

Martie, now changing Teddy's little suit for dinner, let the stream run
on unchecked. Mrs. Curley, who did not particularly fancy Mrs. Dryden,
had gone upstairs, but Martie really liked to listen to Adele.
Presently she turned on the lights, and led Teddy into the Cold Lairs,
to have his face washed. Adele reached for the evening paper, and began
to peruse it idly. When Martie came out of the bath-room, it was to
hear a knock at the door.

"It's John!" predicted Adele. A m