"It is. Have you ever thought that, if we refused to begin, the play couldn't continue, and then the audience would be able to go home? My idea was to tackle the people as they arrive, and come to terms with them. I'm sure there's money in it."
"You aren't bothering, are you?"
"Of course, I am. I'd give a hundred pounds to be out of it. No, I wouldn't—I'd give a hundred pounds if you'd always wear that frock and do your hair like that. Will you? And you shall go on with your French, child."
Myra curtsied prettily.
"And I'll go on with my whiskers. You haven't seen me in those yet, have you?" There was a loud noise without. "Here they are, coming in."
It was not the whiskers, however, but Archie and Thomas in full costume; Archie in green and Thomas in black.
"Hallo," said Archie, "I feel just like a conjuror."
"You look just like a grasshopper," said Thomas.
"My dear friend," said Archie, patting him kindly on his shoulder, "is that you? But you oughtn't to be here, you know. You came up the hot-water pipe, I suppose? Yes, yes, but they misdirected you—the blackbeetle department is in the basement. Well, well, it will be easier going down."
"Archie, Dahlia's looking for you."