‘Yes,’ put in Blandford, ‘the person in pink plush with white extremities lost seven drinks off his tray on the way to the next box just now.’
Here a lady, whose only known name was Girlie, and who had been dumped down in the box by some member of our party who had completely forgotten her, demanded a sherry and bitters.
‘Who’s that?’ remarked Freddy unsteadily, as he let go one hat peg and caught another after two vain efforts. ‘Whashedoinere?’
‘Can’t imagine,’ replied Fatty; and then Freddy having incautiously lost his grip on his sole means of support and fallen against the bell, the conversation was terminated by the appearance of the waiter.
‘This lady,’ said Accrington to the waiter, ‘wants to stand us drinks all round.’
Girlie then rose and commenced a protest which was more forcible than polite; but Accrington waved her aside with a regal gesture.
‘I daresay you didn’t mean to say so m’dear,’ he added, ‘but there are somanyqueerpeopleretnight.’
After the offended Girlie had left the box, Fatty was just proceeding to order the terrible mixture dear to his heart, when Freddy addressed the waiter as ‘Puddle darling,’ and enquired if he was going to Hardtopp-on-Sands for the mixed bathing.
The waiter’s reply was to slam the door from the outside, and Fatty’s ginger-beered Angostura vanished into the dim and distant future.
At this moment the last turn concluded, and the orchestra gave tongue to the National Anthem, which was caught up vigorously in all parts of the house.