“How do you mean?”
“Never mind. Good-night.”
CHAPTER V
A little removed from a pretty road in West Kensington, and communicating with it by a shrubbery and an iron gate, there stood at this time a detached villa called Laurel Grove. On the opposite side were pairs of recently built houses, many of them still unlet. These, without depriving the neighbourhood of its suburban quietude, forbade any feeling of rustic seclusion, and so made it agreeable to Susanna Conolly, who lived at Laurel Grove with Marmaduke Lind.
One morning in September they were at breakfast together. Beside each was a pile of letters. Marmaduke deferred opening his until his hunger was satisfied; but Susanna, after pouring out tea for him, seized the uppermost envelope, thrust her little finger under the flap, and burst it open.
“Hm,” she said. “First rehearsal next Monday. Here he is at me again to make the engagement renewable after Christmas. What an old fool he must be not to guess why I dont want to be engaged next spring! Just look at the Times, Bob, and see if the piece is advertized yet.”
“I should think so, by Jupiter,” said Marmaduke, patiently interrupting his meal to open the newspaper.
“Here is a separate advertisement for everybody. ‘The latest Parisian success. La petite Maison du Roi. Music by M. de Jongleur. Mr. Faulkner has the honor to announce that an adaptation by Mr. Cribbs of M. de Jongleur’s opera bouffe La petite Maison du Roi, entitled King Lewis on the lewis’—what the deuce does that mean?”
“On the loose, of course.”
“But it is spelt l-e-w——oh! its a pun. What an infernal piece of idiocy! Then it goes on as usual, except that each name in the cast has a separate line of large print. Here you are: ‘Lalage Virtue as Madame Dubarry’——”