"Ever been in the profession?" I enquired.
"Never," was the hasty reply.
"What's your line to-night?"
"Tenor. Your pianist will be able to do what I want. I've heard her."
"If you win the prize, do you want a job?" I asked, more for the sake of making conversation than from any real curiosity.
He shook his head.
"I've other work on."
"Down at the docks?"
"That's of no consequence, is it?" was the somewhat curt reply.—"There, she's finished, thank heavens! Let me get this over."
I escorted him to the wings. The young lady, amidst a little volley of good-natured chaff, jumped off the stage and returned to her friends. Her successor crossed quickly towards Rose, who was still seated at the piano. I slipped back behind the scenes. Mr. Richard Thomson was examining the lock of the men's dressing room.