"There is an orchestra."
"It will be droll, monsieur?"
"I doubt it, little one; but we shall see."
Purchasing tickets from a lordly being in a cage, they entered the theater, where a huge audience was rocking with laughter at the three hundred and sixteenth performance of Oh Aunt! They took their seats just in time to hear the best of a scene between two comedians who, lest the subtlety of their wit be lost, were talking at the top of their lung-power, pulling chairs from underneath one another, colliding frequently, and every now and then, to emphasize some point, kicking each other.
Several minutes passed, and wonderingly the French girl gazed at the pair, while the melancholy of her escort's face reached an intensity that threatened tears.
"Monsieur."
He inclined his face towards hers.
"Monsieur—they are——?" She did not complete the sentence, but her shoulders conveyed her meaning.
He smiled sadly. "They are," he said.
She sighed sympathetically. "Poor gentlemen!" she murmured.