Monsieur Noire entered, but, finding Bobby in the chair by the dresser, stopped uncertainly in the doorway.
“Oh, come on een,” she gaily invited; “we are all ze good friends; oui?”
It appeared that Monsieur Noire came in all politeness, yet with rigid intention, to inquire about a missing piece of music from the score of Les Huguenots, and Madam Villenauve, in all politeness and yet with much indignation, assured him that she did not have it; whereupon Monsieur Noire, with all politeness but cold insistence, demanded that she look for it; whereupon Madam Villenauve, though once more protesting that she had it not, in all politeness and yet with considerable asperity, declared that she would not search for it; whereupon Monsieur Noire, observing the piece of music in question peeping out from beneath a conglomerate pile of newspapers, clothing and toilet articles, laid hands upon it and departed. Madam Villenauve, entirely unruffled now that it was all over, but still chattering away with great volubility about the crime of Carmen, finished her dressing and bade Bobby hook the back of her waist, and by sheer calmness and certainty of intention forced him to accompany her over to rehearsal.
Whatever annoyance he might have felt over this was lost in his amusement when he reached the theater in finding Biff Bates upon the stage waiting for him; and Biff, while waiting, was quite excusably whiling the time away with the adorable Miss McGinnis.
“You see, Young Fitz lives here,” Biff brazenly explained, “and I run up to see him about that exhibition night I’m going to have at the gym. I’m going to have him go on with Kid Jeffreys.”
“Biff,” said Bobby warmly, “I want to congratulate you on your business enterprise. Have you seen Young Fitz yet?”
“Well, no,” confessed Biff. “I just got here about an hour ago. I didn’t know your hotel, but it was a cinch from the bills to tell where the show was, so I came right around to the theater to see you first.”
“Exactly,” admitted Bobby. “Do you expect to see Young Fitz?”
“Well, maybe, if I get time,” said Biff with a sheepish grin. “Just now I’m going out for a drive with Miss McGinnis.”
“Caravaggio,” corrected that young lady with a laugh.