ayfully.

"Oh, yes," he replied.

"Come!" said Josephine, rather irritated. "We crowd up the gangway." And
she led the way inside the box.

Aaron stood and looked down at the dishevelled theatre.

"You get all the view," he said.

"We do, don't we!" cried Julia.

"More than's good for us," said Lilly.

"Tell us what you are doing. You've got a permanent job?" asked
Josephine.

"Yes--at present."

"Ah! It's more interesting for you than at Beldover."

She had taken her seat. He looked down at her dusky young face. Her
voice was always clear and measured.

"It's a change," he said, smiling.

"Oh, it must be more than that," she said. "Why, you must feel a whole
difference. It's a whole new life."

He smiled, as if he were laughing at her silently. She flushed.

"But isn't it?" she persisted.

"Yes. It can be," he replied.

He looked as if he were quietly amused, but dissociated. None of the
people in the box were quite real to him. He was not really amused.
Julia found him dull, stupid. Tanny also was offended that he could not
_perceive her_. The men remained practically silent.

"You're a chap I always hoped would turn up again," said Jim.

"Oh, yes!" replied Aaron, smiling as if amused.

"But perhaps he doesn't like us! Perhaps he's not glad that we turned
up," said Julia, leaving her sting.

The flautist turned and looked at her.

"You can't REMEMBER us, can you?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "I can remember you."

"Oh," she laughed. "You are unflattering."

He was annoyed. He did not know what she was getting at.

"How are your wife and children?" she asked spitefully.

"All right, I think."

"But you've been back to them?" cried Josephine in dismay.

He looked at her, a slow, half smiling look, but did not speak.

"Come and have a drink. Damn the women," said Jim uncouthly, seizing
Aaron by the arm and dragging him off.

CHAPTER VI. TALK

The party stayed to the end of the interminable opera. They had agreed
to wait for Aaron. He was to come around to the vestibule for them,
after the show. They trooped slowly down-stairs into the crush of the
entrance hall. Chattering, swirling people, red carpet, palms green
against cream-and-gilt walls, small whirlpools of life at the open, dark
doorways, men in opera hats steering decisively about-it was the old
scene. But there were no taxis--absolutely no taxis. And it was raining.
Fortunately the women had brought shoes. They sl