"It's.... It's the girls."
"Yes...."
"They.... They have on pa ... pajamas." She stumbled a little over the word.
"Yes...." encouraged Mr. Bennet once more.
"They must have been resting," replied Arethusa.
"Resting?"
"Pa ... pajamas are bedclothes," she explained, blushing just a bit.
"Yes, I know," said Mr. Bennet kindly, "but I don't just see...." He glanced back at the stage.
"I reckon they put them on to rest between the acts," continued Arethusa, "because they must have been tired, after dancing so hard, and the curtain must have gone up so quick they didn't have time to change. They must be awfully embarrassed to come out before us like that. I think it's mean to laugh at them. I wouldn't laugh for anything myself."
The picture conjured up by this speech of Arethusa's, of the chorus girls changing wildly to pajamas and reclining after the arduous labors of the first act, tickled Mr. Bennet more than anything that had happened on the stage, even the best efforts of the expensive comedian. And the effect upon him of the idea was the very same effect that the idea of moths and butterflies as a Topic of Conversation for Parties had had upon Mr. Watts, when Arethusa had presented it to him at the dinner-dance.