But now the Tamburini, ceremoniously attired in a wrapper, strode in and Paliser, who had been straddling the music-bench, stood up.
The fact that they had come together and were together, had already darkly enlightened the fallen star and as she strode in she exclaimed with poetry and fervour: "Two souls with but a single thought!"
Paliser took his hat. "We are a trifle better provided. I have as many as three or four thoughts and one of them concerns a license. I am going to get it."
His face was turned from Cassy and his eyes, which he had fastened on his hostess, held caveats, commands, rewards.
Massively she flung herself on Cassy. "Dearie, I weep for joy!"
Cassy shoved her away. "Not on me, Tamby."
But the dear lady, in attacking her, shot a glance at Paliser. It was very voluble.
Cassy, too, was looking at him. Her education had been thorough. She knew any number of useless things. In geography, history, and the multiplication-table she was versed. But Kent's Commentaries, passionate as they are, were beyond her ken. The laws to which they relate were also. None the less, on the subject of one law she had an inkling, vague, unprecised, and, for all she knew to the contrary, incorrect. She blurted it. "Don't I have to go, too?"
Ma Tamby grabbed it. "Go where, dearie?"
"For the license?"