"As she did many an unhappy mortal in days of yore, in her Theban home. I wonder if they looked as resigned in their martyrdom as poor Capt. Trevalyon does," said Vaura.
"I used to think Oedipus finished her," said Trevalyon.
"Only for his day," said Vaura; "'twas too long a look till Octave
Feuillet; he should have asked Lynceus to give a glance."
"The Cyclops might have lent him an eye," said Bertram.
"Are you always as indifferent to the stars of the stage Captain?" enquired Mrs. Wingfield, as she gently puffed away her delicate cigarette. "What Eustace would do without his distractions in that way, heaven only knows."
"He will outgrow it; most men have stage fever, as most babies have measles," he answered evasively.
"And now for our mantles and away," said Lady Esmondet, rising.
"And may the mantle of resignation fall on the shoulders of poor Capt. Trevalyon," said Vaura, taking his offered arm, and as the hand leaning on his arm pressed closely, she said in low tones, "you had my unregistered vote."
"Merci," he said, pressing her hand.