“What—a company?”
“No, no. A replica of yourself. The great Towle—”
“He’s here to-night.”
“I knew he was coming. Well, the great Towle detached this astral body once at a séance and, for a joke—a silly joke, you know—”
“Yes, yes.”
“I christened it by my real name, Lady Enid Thistle, and said Lady Enid was an ancestress of mine.”
“Why did you?”
“Because it was so idiotic.”
“I see.”
“Well, I’ve only now to spread a report among these dear creatures that I’m astral to-night, and get Towle to back me up, and I can easily be Lady Enid for an hour or two. In this crowd Sir Tiglath need never find out that I’m generally known in these circles as Miss Partridge.”