"At the Opera," she repeated.
"My little protégée, Felicia Roche, is singing," he went on, "in Aïda. If she does as well in the next act as she has done in this, her future is made."
He was on the point of adding the news of Felicia's engagement to the young man who had momentarily deserted him. Some evil chance changed his intention.
"Why do you call her your little protégée?" she demanded.
"It isn't quite correct, is it?" he answered, a little absently. "There are three or four of us who are doing what we can to look after her. Her father was a prominent member of the Wigwam Club. The girl won the musical scholarship we have there. She has more than repaid us for our trouble, I am glad to say."
"I have no doubt that she has," Violet replied, lifting her eyes.
There was a moment's silence. The significance of her words was entirely lost upon Hunterleys.
"Isn't this rather a new departure of yours?" he asked, glancing disdainfully towards Draconmeyer. "I thought that you so much preferred to play at the Club."
"So I do," she assented, "but I was just beginning to win when the Club closed at eight o'clock, and so we came on here."
"Your good fortune continues, I hope?"