“What?” she said.
The undergraduate fell a little back.
“Only—I only asked if you’d been to many theatres lately.”
“Not any.”
“Oh!... I—I suppose you know everybody here?”
“Yes.”
“Do point them out to me!”
“That’s Walter Wyron. That’s Mrs. Wyron. That’s Miss Lemesurier. I don’t know who the little man is. That’s Mr. Wilkinson. My name’s Belchamber.”
“Oh—I say—I mean, thanks awfully. We’ve heard of them all, of course,” the unhappy young man faltered.