The theatre was crowded and the air close and heavy; a continual murmur of voices rose from the pit, laughter, snatches of song, and whispers.
Rose Lyndwood leant from his box, put up his glass and surveyed the house; behind him two young men yawned, and laughed, aimlessly, lounging against the side of the box.
The Earl was silent; they could not involve him in their jests or comments. He remained with face averted idly gazing at the faces below; nearly all turned towards him, he was commonly more stared at than the play.
"'Tis vastly warm here," complained one of his companions. "Why aren't they beginning?"
Rose Lyndwood suddenly swung about and lifted dark eyes to the speaker.
"Who is that opposite with Sandys?" he asked.
"The charmer in green?"
"Yes, do you know her?"
George Cochrane answered.
"'Tis Miss Lescelles; the dame in the huge toupee is her mother."