“All right,” said the young peer with a smile; “she’ll come. Did you see her nod? By George! she was better than ever to-night; what do you think, Harry?”
“Yes,” drawled the man addressed. “Some night she’ll be ‘best,’ and that will finish her! Come on; she won’t take long, and there’ll be the devil to pay if we keep her waiting.”
They moved languidly toward the gorgeous corridor, with its electric light and mosaic walls, its costly hangings and tropical ferns, and Seth, whose sharp ears had heard every word, softly and cautiously followed them. The men passed out, and made their way round to a dimly-lit street at the back of the vast building, and Seth, keeping well in the shadow and having anything but the appearance of a man who was following them, lurked at their heels. They stopped at a door over which was a lamp bearing the words “Stage Entrance,” and one and all took out cigarettes, and smoked them with an affected sort of patience.
“Confound her, what a time she is!” said his lordship. “I suppose if we went on without her and left a brougham she’d cut up rough?”
“For a certainty,” said Sir Harry, “and we don’t want the evening spoiled.”
As he spoke the door opened, a woman’s voice said in clear, bold accents, “Good-night,” to the door-keeper, and Bella-Bella came out.
“Here you are, then!” she said, nodding to the group. “What are you waiting for?”
“You said you’d come to supper,” said his lordship.
“I didn’t,” she retorted.
“You nodded your head,” said Sir Harry.