"A perfect love—a beauty—it was thrown at my feet; but I gave it to her of course."
"Gave it to her?"
"Miss De Montague—don't you know—the 'Queen of the Fairy Bower?' She gets all the bouquets."
"Oh, she does, does she?"
"Certainly. She is the principal, you know. Her engagement calls for all the bouquets."
"Even when they are plainly intended for somebody else?"
"Ah, but they oughtn't to be intended for somebody else. If any one is so silly as to think somebody else ought to have a bouquet, any one has to be punished. Then they forfeit him."
"Forfeit him?"
"Or his flowers. They always forfeit you in theatres—if you're late at rehearsal, you know, or if you keep the stage waiting. But then you needn't mind. Miss De Montague is a dear, good soul. She took the bouquet for the look of the thing, you know; that's business; but she gave me half the flowers when we got home."
"Does she live here then?"