MRS. MORLEY.
(Seriously.) What a pity we've missed so much.
(There are general greetings, whispered pleasantly. Each person, without exception, glances first all about the house, and then turns his eyes slowly toward stage. Mrs. Sternwall sits in the corner, facing the audience with three-quarters face, as the photographers express it, one-quarter toward the singers and mise en scène. She beckons Easterfelt to sit behind her. The others fall into the other places more or less as they happen, the women in front looking lovely, as each one is well aware, with her beautiful white neck, her jewels, and her charming coif. The music continues.)
MRS. MORLEY.
(Suddenly noticing that Mr. Sternwall is not with them.) But where is Mr. Sternwall?
MRS. STERNWALL.
Oh, Henry always goes across to Hammerstein's Olympia during the acts, but he will join us for each of the entre-acts.
(She takes up her opera glass, and examines the house minutely.)
MISS BEEBAR.
What is the opera?