The curtain of the first act descended upon a woman, waiting at the window for a man who did not come, and, most happily, Isabel remembered the conversation at home in the earlier part of the evening.
"Foolish woman," she said, "to wait at the window."
"Why?" asked Allison, secretly amused.
"I wouldn't wait at the window for an unmarried man, nor for a married man, either, unless he was my own husband."
"Why?" he asked, again.
"Because men keep best in a cool dry atmosphere. Didn't you know that?"
"How did you happen to discover it, Sweet-and-Twenty?"
Isabel answered with a smile, which meant much or little, as one chose.
Presently she remembered something else that happened to be useful.
"Look," she said, indicating a man in the front seat who had fallen asleep. "He's taking his pleasure sadly."
"Perhaps he's happier to be asleep. He may not care for the play."