"Poor fool!" muttered Nancibel. With her lips tightly compressed she walked back towards her guests. While still in the dark of the hall she closed her eyes for a second—O, I hope they go soon. Then with a smile she went back to her place by the teathings.
"Was Fitzie telling you all the Boston Theatre gossip?" asked a little girl with light fuzzy hair and a green dress.
"No, it was only about Mr. Salinski."
"She's jealous because he played here, I bet you."
"She doesn't want him to play with that dreadful ladies' orchestra, does she?" put in a tall girl with large teeth and a picture hat.
"You shouldn't laugh at people's misfortunes, Susan," said the fuzzy-haired girl with a shrill little titter.
"What are Miss Fitzhugh's misfortunes?" asked Fanshaw, who stood tall and blonde in a light grey suit, with his back to the fireplace.
"She's celloist on the famous ladies' orchestra."
"How delicious. The Fadettes!"
"Fitzie's an awful fool, but I like her," said Nancibel gruffly.