"Behold the crowd! Here endeth the interlude! Enter Mrs. Lloyd Avalons!"
"What in thunder is that woman doing here, Sally?" Bobby demanded, as Arlt's fingers dropped from the keys in the very midst of a phrase.
Sally shrugged her shoulders with the petulant gesture of a naughty child.
"How in thunder should I know, Bobby? I wish you'd ask her."
"No use. She never takes a hint."
A sudden change came over the group, as Mrs. Lloyd Avalons tripped daintily into the room. Miss Gannion straightened herself in her chair and took refuge in her lorgnette; Arlt's artistic fire extinguished itself, and he once more became the taciturn young German, while Sally assumed certain of the characteristics of a frozen olive. Bobby, however, continued to smile upon the room with unabated serenity.
"What a delight to find you here!" Mrs. Lloyd Avalons exclaimed, as she took Sally's hand.
"Miss Van Osdel has unsuspected depths to her nature," Bobby observed gravely. "Long as I have known her, Mrs. Avalons, I assure you I have never succeeded in finding her out."
"Oh—yes. How like you that is, Mr. Dane! But I was including you all."
"Taking us all in?" Bobby queried.