"Ye gods!" exclaimed the woman at my left but one. "It's Sid!--and I'm supposed to be home, sick in bed with a headache!" She looked at the man I had met and I assumed he was "Sid." "Damn such a town, anyway, where you can't go out without running into your own husband. Doc, who's he got with him?" She leered across the room at "Sid's" good-looking companions. "Never mind, Bell," soothed the doctor, "neither of you have got anything on the other." Bell blew him a kiss. "Dear old pain-killer!" she purred. A little later "Sid" came over to the table and the doctor joined the other party. Sid's wife started to introduce him to me. "I've met the lady," he interrupted, not giving me credit for any discretion. "O, you have," she said in an unpleasant tone. As he passed on behind her chair he said to her _sotto voce_, "Headache, eh? I like the way you lie." "O, you go to hell!" was the gentle rejoinder. There was still a trace of the anger which illuminated her bleary eyes when she turned to me. "What do you think of him trying to put it over me?" She steered back to the subject which was on her mind. Where had I met her husband and when? I told her I didn't recall--that he was probably mistaken. She knew I was lying. I am sure I don't know why I did it. Someone started telling funny stories. They were not really funny; only smutty. The women were more daring than the men. Will always declared that women were "whole hoggers" when once they started. I presume they labour under the impression that it is sporty or that it pleases the men "to go them one better." Ever since Eve was made for Adam's pleasure the female sex has been as pliable as the original mixture of mud and a floating rib. Women, generally, are what men want them to be.... As time went by I began to fret lest Will be late for the evening performance. Finally I caught his eye and he understood my message. He looked at his watch and jumped to his feet. "Doc, what's the best time your machine can make? I've got precisely twenty minutes before the curtain goes up." "I'll get you there," answered the doctor as he left the table. "I'll drive him in," called the doctor's wife. "No, I guess not!" he answered over his shoulder. I devoutly, if mutely, thanked heaven. I am sure the doctor realized that his wife was "three sheets to the wind"--to use Will's favourite expression. I made my adieus and rose to follow Will. "Where are you going?" called Mrs. Pease. "No, you don't--you don't shake us like this! Willy, tell your wife to sit down and behave herself." In vain I expostulated that I must go back to the baby. "Never mind the kiddie; he's asleep and don't even know he's got a mother." She followed us into the hall where the doctor and Will were hurrying into their fur coats. "You can't go this trip, little lady," and the doctor pushed me out of the draughty doorway. "There's no room in the car and we're going to ride like hell." I appealed mutely to Will, who drew me aside.