“I should be only too glad,” I said, “if you would tell me where to come.”
“Oh, anybody’ll tell you,” she said. “Nine-fifteen.”
Then she disappeared, and at a quarter past nine, when I returned to the theatre after consulting Ezekiel, I was eventually shown into a small room, where she appeared to be undressing herself to a marked extent. She waved her hand, however, and bade me take a chair, assuring me that the worst was already over, and introducing me to a woman, whom she described as her dresser, and whose name was Mrs. Montgomery.
“This is Mr. Carp,” she said, “the Vice-President of the Anti-Dramatic and Saltatory Union.”
Mrs. Montgomery wiped her hands on her apron prior to greeting me with great cordiality.
“Happy to meet you,” she said. “I’ve read a lot of your tracts, and mark my words, there’s a lot of truth in ’em.”
“Yes,” said Miss Moonbeam, “and isn’t it awful, Bags?[[13]] He says we kill thousands of people every night.”
[13]. Presumably an abbreviation of Montgomery.
“Well, I shouldn’t wonder,” said Mrs. Montgomery, “not for a moment, I shouldn’t. What with this modern dancing and all. Hold your chin up, dearie.”
She was applying some powder to Miss Moonbeam’s neck, and presently stood back a little, eyeing her critically.