's a disgrace! It's a disgrace!
It's a disgrace! It's a mercy Miss Frost and your mother are dead.
He's lost every bit of shame--every bit--if he ever had any--which I
doubt very much. Well, all I can say, I'm glad I am not concerned.
And I'm sorry for you, for being his daughter. I'm heart sorry for
you, I am. Well, well--no sense of shame--no sense of shame--"

And Miss Pinnegar padded out of the room.

Alvina walked down to Lumley and was shown the site and was
introduced to Mr. May. He bowed to her in his best American fashion,
and treated her with admirable American deference.

"Don't you think," he said to her, "it's an admirable scheme?"

"Wonderful," she replied.

"Of cauce," he said, "the erection will be a merely temporary one.
Of cauce it won't be anything to _look_ at: just an old wooden
travelling theatre. But _then_--all we need is to make a start."

"And you are going to work the film?" she asked.

"Yes," he said with pride, "I spend every evening with the operator
at Marsh's in Knarborough. Very interesting I find it--very
interesting indeed. And _you_ are going to play the piano?" he said,
perking his head on one side and looking at her archly.

"So father says," she answered.

"But what do _you_ say?" queried Mr. May.

"I suppose I don't have any say."

"Oh but _surely_. Surely you won't do it if you don't wish to. That
would never do. Can't we hire some young fellow--?" And he turned to
Mr. Houghton with a note of query.

"Alvina can play as well as anybody in Woodhouse," said James. "We
mustn't add to our expenses. And wages in particular--"

"But surely Miss Houghton will have her wage. The labourer is worthy
of his hire. Surely! Even of _her_ hire, to put it in the feminine.
And for the same wage you could get some unimportant fellow with
strong wrists. I'm afraid it will tire Miss Houghton to death--"

"I don't think so," said James. "I don't think so. Many of the turns
she will not need to accompany--"

"Well, if it comes to that," said Mr. May, "I can accompany some of
them myself, when I'm not operating the film. I'm not an expert
pianist--but I can play a little, you know--" And he trilled his
fingers up and down an imaginary keyboard in front of Alvina,
cocking his eye at her smiling a little archly.

"I'm sure," he continued, "I can accompany anything except a man
juggling dinner-plates--and then I'd be afraid of making him drop
the plates. But songs--oh, songs! _Con molt