_. It's a lovely show
but the play's no good.... Why not come and see it? Freeland, go and
telephone Mr Gillies to keep a box for Mrs Mann.'

Freeland obeyed, treading the floor of the restaurant as though it were
a stage.

'I suppose you're not sorry you gave up acting, Charles,' said Miss
Wainwright, with her most expansive affability. She oozed charm, and
surrounded Charles and Clara with it, so that almost for the first time
Clara felt that she really was identified with her great man. Those
who worshipped at the shrine of his greatness always regarded her as an
adjunct and their politeness chilled her, but Miss Wainwright swept
greatness aside and was delightfully concerned only with what she
regarded as a striking and very happy couple.

Charles, who was absorbed in eating an orange, made no reply other than
a grimace.

'I don't know how you did it.... I couldn't. Once a player, always a
player--money or no money, and there's a great deal more money in it
than there used to be.'

Freeland Moore returned, announced that a box had been reserved, and,
telling Miss Wainwright that it was time to go, he helped her on with
her wrap of swan's down and velvet....

'I'll come and call if I may,' said Miss Wainwright, with a billowing
bow, and, with a magnificent setting of all her sails she moved away
from the table, and, taking the wind of approval from her audience, the
other diners, she preened her way out.

'Pouf! Pah! Pah!' said Charles, shaking back his mane. 'Pouf! The
stink of green-paint.'

'I'm sure she's the kindest woman in the world.'

'So are they all,' growled Charles, 'dripping with kindness or burning
with jealousy.... The theatrical woman!--It's a modern indecency.'

'And suppose I became one.'

'You couldn't.'

'But I'm going to.'

'You'd never stand it for a week, my dear. I'd ... I'd ...'

'What would you do?'

'I'd forbid it.'

'Then I should not stay with you.... You know that.'

Charles knew it. He had learned painfully that though she had some
respect for his opinion, she had none for his authority.

He had more coffee, liqueurs, fruit, a cigar, gave the waiter a tip
which sent him running to fetch the noble diner's overcoat, and,
hailing a taxi, they drove the few hundred yards to the Imperium, where
he growled, grunted, muttered, dashed his hands through his hair, and
she sat with her eyes glued on the stage, and her brows puckered as the
dull, illiterate v