I caught her eye, and she came straight over to me and sat down beside me. “Shaky?” she said. “A corpse,” I said. And she quietly laid hold of my hand and held it till Dolly Ensor condescended to stroll in. And when I got up I asked her who she was, and she told me. “Oh, my God,” I said, “I’ll never forget your kindness! Why, of course, you’re the ‘Mind the Paint’ girl——!”
Roper, de Castro, and Von Rettenmayer.
Singing. “Mind the paint! Mind the paint! Tra, lal, la, lal, la, lal, la, lal, la, lal, tra, la, la, la——!”
Bland seats himself at the piano and thumps out the air of the refrain of “Mind the Paint.” The three men, mouthing the time silently, wave their arms, and Lily’s head and body move from side to side.
Bland.
With a groan. Ugh! Is there anything more ancient than a four-year-old comic song? Playing a few bars of the melody of the song. Shade of Nineveh and all the buried cities!
Roper, Von Rettenmayer, and de Castro.
To Lily, coaxingly. Lily! Goddess! Lil!
Lily.
Shaking her head. Oh, boys, it’s gone. Pressing temples. I couldn’t——