ter part of his evening's
work was done and he was able to leave the task of dealing with late
comers to some subordinate clerk. He looked a mere boy, younger than I
expected, as he stood at the end of the row of seats trying to attract
his brother's attention. Gorman was so much occupied with Mrs. Ascher
that for some time he did not notice Tim. I had time to observe the
boy. He had fair hair, and large, childlike blue eyes. He was evidently
nervous, for he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He kept
pulling at his tie, and occasionally patting his hair. He was quite
right to be uncomfortable about his hair. It was very untidy and one
particular lock stood out stiffly at the back of his head.

Gorman saw him at last and immediately introduced him to Ascher and to
me. But Tim was far too nervous to sit down beside us. He crept after
his brother and took a chair, three seats beyond Gorman, away from Mrs.
Ascher. She spotted him directly and insisted on his sitting beside her.
She is a woman who likes to have a man of some sort on each side of her.
Tim Gorman was little more than a boy but he was plainly frightened of
her. I suppose that gave zest to the sport of annexing him. Besides, his
eyes are very fine, and, if souls really shine through eyes, showed that
he was refreshingly innocent. I expect, too, that there was something
piquant in the company of the clerk who takes the money at the door of
a second-rate entertainment. Mrs. Ascher has often told me that she
is more interested in life than in anything else, even art. She
distinguishes between life and real life. Mine, I gather, is not nearly
so real as that of a performer in a travelling circus. I do not know why
this should be so, but I have no doubt that it is. Mrs. Ascher is not
by any means the only person who thinks so. Tim Gorman's life was
apparently real enough to attract her greatly. She paid him the
compliment of talking a good deal to the boy, though she was far too
clever a woman to let the elder brother feel himself neglected.

A learned horse had just begun its performance when Tim Gorman entered.
It went on for some time picking out large letters from a pile in front
of it and arranging them so as to spell out "yes" or "no" in answer to
questions asked by a man with a long whip in his hand. The animal used
one of its front hoofs in arranging the letters, and looked singularly
undignified. Ascher sat quite still with an air of grave politen