ous points in
the opera with a great deal of deftness.

"As to Alston Lake, he quite astonished us!" she said presently. "He is
going to be a huge success."

She discussed the singers, showing her usual half-slipshod
discrimination, dropping here and there criticisms full of acuteness.

"Altogether," she concluded, "it has been a most interesting and unusual
evening. Ah, there is Monsieur Gillier!"

Gillier came up and received congratulations. His expression was very
strange. It seemed to combine something that was morose with a sort of
exultation. Once he shot a half savage glance at Claude. He raved about
Enid Mardon.

"We are going round to see her!" Mrs. Shiffney said. "Come, Mr. Ramer!"

Quickly she wished Charmian and Claude good-night.

"All my congratulations!" she said. "And a thousand wishes for a triumph
on the first night. By the way, will it really be on the twenty-eighth,
do you think?"

"I believe so," said Claude.

"Can it be ready?"

"We mean to try."

"Ah, you are workers! And Mr. Crayford's a wonder. Good-night, dear
Charmian! What a night for you!"

She buttoned her sable coat at the neck and went away with Ramer and
Armand Gillier.

As she turned to the right in the corridor she murmured to Gillier:

"Why didn't you give it to Jacques? Oh, the pity of it!"

Claude and Charmian said scarcely anything as they drove to their hotel.
Charmian lay back in the taxi-cab with shut eyes, her temples throbbing.
But when they were in their sitting-room she came close to her husband,
and said:

"Claude, I want to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Have you had a quarrel with Adelaide Shiffney?"

Claude hesitated.

"A quarrel?"

"Yes. Have you given her any reason--just lately--to dislike you
personally, to hate you perhaps?"

"What should make you think so?"

"Please answer me!" Her voice had grown sharp.

"Perhaps I have. But please don't ask me anything more, Charmian. If you
do, I cannot answer you."

"Now I understand!" she exclaimed, almost passionately.

"What?"

"Why she turned down her thumb at the opera."

"But--"

"Claude, she did, she did! You know she did! There was not one real word
for you from either her or Mr. Ramer, not one! We've had her verdict.
But what is it worth? Nothing! Less than nothing! You've told me why.
All her cleverness, all her discrimination has failed her, just
because--oh, we women are contemptible sometimes! It's no use our
pretend