"No; have you?"
"Well, not exactly a theatre!"
"Why, what do you mean?"
"Sort of half-and-half place, you know."
By the icy chill at her heart at his innocent phrase, she knew how she dreaded discovery and clung to her social status.
"What is a half-and-half place?" she asked smiling.
"Oh, comic songs and tumblers and you can smoke."
"No? You're not really allowed to smoke in a theatre?"
"Yes, we are. They call it a music-hall—it's great fun. But don't tell the mater."
"You naughty boy!"