"You were a brick to lend them," she proceeded. "Didn't you think Lexie was awfully good?"
"Very good indeed," he said.
"She isn't a bit excited. Funny, isn't it? She used to be so keen once. Now I don't think she'd mind a bit if she left the stage."
"Would you?"
"I? I can't imagine myself anywhere else. This time twenty years, if Maggy Delamere's still alive, she'll be capering about in the chorus somewhere, I expect. I hope I shall be dead though," she added pessimistically.
"What is the matter with you to-day?" asked Chalfont.
"Blue devils. Mr. Woolf's away. He won't be back for three weeks. He's on his honeymoon."
Chalfont stared at her. For a moment he thought she was speaking seriously. He could not understand her calm acceptance of such a fact. Then Maggy laughed.
"He's gone to honeymoon places, I mean. On business. He couldn't take me." She changed the subject quickly. "Have you ever been to see Lexie?"
"No," he replied. "I wasn't sure she would like me to."