She seemed scarcely to understand me at first, as she repeated, in a bewildered manner, 'excitement!' Then she said simply, 'It's very exciting when you miss the train and the company go on without you; but it's dreadful, too, because the manager might telegraph to say you needn't come on at all'.
'But the acting; isn't that exciting?'
'It's nice, sometimes, when one has a part one likes; but, of course, I only got small parts, and it's dreadful to have to go on with nothing to say, or for an executioner, or an old woman, with just a line.'
'And don't you like travelling?'
'I like it sometimes in the summer; but in the winter it's so cold, and the places all seem alike; and then the pantomime season comes, and you have nothing to do.'
'What do you do then? What did you do last winter, for instance?'
'We went back to London.'
'Well?'
But Babiole had grown suddenly shy.
'Won't you tell me? Would you rather not?'