Mrs. Sixsmith lowered her voice.
“Where did Sally find her Balthasar,” she asked, “and where did she secure her Tybalt?”
“My dear Mrs. Sixsmith, I’m not in the management’s secrets, remember, so much as you!”
“Or who put her in the way of Sampson and Gregory? And where did she get her Benvolio?”
“Through an agent, I don’t doubt.”
Mrs. Sixsmith threw a sidelong probing glance in the direction of the door. Already in her heart she felt herself losing her hold. Had the time inevitably come to make out the score?
Through the open door came a squeal.
“Sally, the owls!”
“Leave them, Réné,” Miss Sinquier ordered.
“Dearest, what diddlies; one has a look of old Sir Oliver!” Miss Mant declared, coming forward into the room.