Telford looked on the point of collapse. Someone gently propelled a chair towards him, on which he sank gazing round him stupidly.
Suddenly Florrie gave a wild hysterical shriek and fell. For a moment her limbs twitched spasmodically, then she lay very still. She had fainted. Several of the girls ran forward and began fumbling about with the fastenings of her clothes. They removed her hat and veil, and one of them uttered a cry of surprise.
Suddenly Florrie sat up, and those about her, as if impelled by their instinct for the dramatic, stood aside that Telford could see her.
It was Elsie Gwyn.
"Please Mr. Telford," she said smiling, and in her natural voice, "won't you give me a trial in the part of Jenny Burrow."
Telford stared as a drunken man might who had been roused by the glare of a policeman's lantern.
The company looked first at the girl, then at Telford, then at each other. Telford drew a deep sigh.
"My God!" he muttered.
A babel of conversation and chatter broke out. Telford gazed at Elsie Gwyn as if fascinated.
"Listen, everybody."