Two o'clock dragged on to three, three to half-past three, and thoughts were turning towards tea-time, the half hour that was permitted at four o'clock, when a startling interruption occurred. From the direction of the stage-door a woman's voice was heard raised in anger.
"Engaged is he," it cried. "Too busy to see me? I don't think. You just run along and tell him that Florrie's here and wants to see him, and if he don't see her she'll raise hell." The murmur of the stage doorkeeper's voice was heard.
"Here, get out of the way," said the voice. A moment after a girl bounced on to the stage. She was young, stylishly dressed, fair as far as could be seen through her thick veil. The stage doorkeeper followed close upon her heels muttering protests. Turning on him like a fury the girl shouted:
"Here, clear out of it if you don't want a thick ear."
The man hurriedly stepped back a few paces. The girl who had announced herself as Florrie gave a swift look round, then spotting Telford went directly up to him.
"Said you were too busy, Roj. Not too to see Florrie, old sport, what?"
Telford gazed at the girl in astonishment.
"You've made a mistake, I think," he said coldly.
"Oh, listen to the band," she sang. "Look here, what's your lay, what are you after?"
Telford was conscious that the eyes of the company were upon him. "I'm afraid I don't know you, and you've made a mistake."