'They make a very good show,' Lushington observed indifferently. 'But I did not think they made much noise in the Introduction, when they were expected to.'
'Perhaps,' suggested Madame Bonanni, 'the four supernumeraries are dummies, put on to fill up.'
Just then the chorus was explaining at great length, as choruses in operas often do, that it was absolutely necessary not to make the least noise, while Rigoletto stood at the foot of the ladder, pretending neither to hear them nor to know, in the supposed total darkness, that his eyes were bandaged.
'Have you seen Logotheti?' asked Lushington.
'Not yet, but I shall certainly see him before it's over. I'm sure that he is somewhere in the house.'
'He came over from Paris in his motor car,' Lushington said.
'I know he did.'
There was no reason why she should not know that Logotheti had come in his car, but Lushington thought she seemed annoyed that the words should have slipped out. Her eyes were still fixed intently on the stage.
She rose to her feet suddenly, as if she had seen something that startled her.
'Wait for me!' she said almost sharply, as she passed her son.