With a characteristic gesture she straightened the wayward brown fringe.
"In my young days we went to the play to see people really act. But now everyone's attention is riveted on the production! A sort of marionette show in which the performers seem to count as auxiliaries to the epigrams parcelled out by the author. You don't hear people praise the art of the actor. Oh, dear, no. It's: 'Isn't it well put on?' or 'Aren't the dresses simply sweet?'"
McTaggart laughed heartily.
"There's a great deal in what you say. Well, I'll be back within the hour. I'm so glad you can come." He foresaw that the evening might prove a quaint experience in the company of his new friend with her sharp eyes and caustic tongue.
The little old maid smiled at him.
"You'll find me quite ready," she replied, "and looking forward to my treat."
But in her heart she was saying: "I believe the boy's fond of Jill. And Mary's such an utter fool! I must see into this myself. Edward, I know, would thank me for it. He seems a nice, manly fellow..."
Little McTaggart guessed her thoughts, nor the impulse prompting her to accept.
As he left the room he heard the parrot, shrouded and sulky, drawing corks!