"No, silly. It's Wyndham. Bray-vo! Seventy, if 'e's a day, an' don't look it. My word, I am enjoyin' myself, I can tell you! Everybody's 'ere to-night. Of course, it's St. James's, of course!..."
Popular criminal lawyers came in and sat next to racing marquises; and lords and ladies mingled with actresses who very ostentatiously accompanied their mothers. A few men of letters and a crowd of dramatic critics, depressed, unenthusiastic men, leavened the mass of the semi-great. The rest were the children of Israel.
"Jews to the right of us, Jews to the left of us!..." Gilbert said.
"Anti-Semite!" Henry replied.
"Only in practice, Quinny, not in theory. I'll see you at the interval!"
"If you nip out of your seat as the curtain goes down," said Henry, "we can both get up to her box before the rush!..."
"There won't be any rush."
"Well, anyhow, we can get up to the box pretty quickly!"
Gilbert walked away without replying, and Henry sat back in his seat and watched the boxes so that he might see Lady Cecily the moment she entered. His stall was in the last row, against the first row of the pit, and the girls who had applauded Miss Terry and Sir Charles Wyndham were still identifying the fashionable people.
"I tell you it is 'im," said the more assertive of the two.