"Oh, I don't know. I heard the 'great' Miss Hayward wanted thirty Extra-ladies to go on in the ball scene. It was twenty-five bob a week--she wanted picked women--it would just have done me. Lil Rayburn lent me her little squirrel coat and a black velvet hat. I tell you I looked a treat when I went down! There were three hundred and forty girls waiting; we were sent across the stage thirty at the time. The great Hayward sat in the stalls, with her pince-nez up. 'You!' she said, pointing; 'the one in the squirrel coat!' So I went to her. 'I think you'll do,' she drawled; 'you know what the money is?' 'Twenty-five, Miss Hayward,' I said, 'isn't it?' 'No, a guinea,' she said, 'it doesn't matter to _you_.' 'Thank you,' I said, 'I've got to keep myself out of _my_ salary--_I_ haven't got a man, and a flat!' Potter, the agent, was in an awful stew--'Oh, you shouldn't have spoken to Miss Hayward like that!' 'To _hell_!' I said." "Cat!" cried Rosalind. "Because you were well-dressed?" "Yes; and if I had gone shabby, she wouldn't have noticed me at all.... You know I've been in the Variety business since you saw me?" "The music-halls! You haven't?" "Straight! I was one of the Four Sisters Tarantelle. Jolly good money--I got five pounds a week when we worked two shows a night; I never got less than three ten. I can't get it on the stage." "Why did you give them up? But the tips are very heavy, aren't they?" "They weren't heavy for _me_, I didn't tip anybody except the dresser. Chloe made the engagements, so Chloe could pay the tips. Trust this child! What does make you sick in that business is the comedians, with the red noses and the umbrellas--they're always after you. There was a little brute in one show--his wife was in the bill, too; she did sentimental ballads. Well! how he could let her travel _I_ don't know. It _was_ her last week, but she wasn't fit to be working so long, we almost expected any night---- And there he was after me all the time! 'I shall write to you, Tattie--I see you go to Balham, and Walham Green next week!' 'Who gave you leave to call me "Tattie?"' I said; 'you low cur, I wish I was a man, to give you a good hiding!' I did pity his wife. She never spoke to me--she used to pass me in the wings with her head turned away; I suppose she thought I was as bad as _he_ was. I said to her one evening when she was ill, 'Can I get you anything, Miss----' I forget what her name was. 'No, I thank you, Miss Tarantelle,' she said--like that; wouldn't look at me! I _was_ so sorry for her. Poor little woman, what a life!" Rosalind shuddered. After a pause, she said:-- "You're well out of it, dear." "Except for the money. I expect I'll go back to it as soon as I can. I had a contract for a year--they wanted the option of renewing for another year." "_They_ were to have the option?"