Estell was saying something about $246,-724, or something that sounded like that amount, but he dropped it to ask: "Florence, what are you talking about?"
"Stupid people. But you are not interested."
"No, of course not, but I was trying to get at an exact amount, and you bothered me for a moment."
"It's all right, let it go," said the Senator. "By the way, Mr. Belford and I have entered into a business arrangement. We are going to run the opera house and share profits."
Mrs. Estell cried "good." Estell gave her a look of reproof, I thought. "You mean that you are going to share losses," he said. "The thing was an elephant on Sanderson's hands."
"But it won't be on ours," the Senator spoke up. "We know how to run it. Don't we, Belford?"
"I think we do," I answered. "My fellow-players called me the manager's elephant, and in this case I don't know but we might be pitting Greek against Greek, or elephant against elephant."
Mrs. Estell laughed and so did the Senator, but Estell drank his coffee in silence. The subject was permitted to fall, but it was taken up again shortly afterward, when we had lighted our cigars in the library.
"So you think of going into the show business?" said the State Treasurer, resting his head on the back of his chair and looking up at the ceiling.
"Well, not actively," the Senator replied. "That is, I'm not to be active in the work."