"Who's she?"
"She's the president."
Jenny considered the offer a moment. Soon she decided that, dreary as the world was, it would not be brightened by an introduction to Miss Bailey. In the dressing-room that night, during the wait between the two ballets, Elsie Crauford, who had long been waiting for an opportunity to avenge Jenny's slighting references to Willie's evening dress, thought she would risk an encounter.
"I didn't know your Maurice had gone quite sudden," she said. "Aren't you going to do anything about it?"
"You've blacked your nose, Elsie Crauford."
"Have I? Where?" Elsie had seized a hand-glass.
"Yes, you have, poking it into other people's business. You curious thing! What am I going to do about it? Punch into you, if you're not sharp."
"He seemed so fond of you, too."
"You never saw him but once, when you blew in with the draught in that flash hat of yours."
"No, but Madge Wilson told me you was absolutely mad about one another. It seems so funny he should leave you. But Madge said it wouldn't last. She said you weren't getting a jolly fine time for nothing. Funny thing, you always knew such a lot before you got struck on a fellow yourself. What you weren't going to do! You aren't so much cleverer than us after all."