Their dresses swished and kisses were exchanged in the hall beside the coatrack. When the door had closed behind the two women, Nancibel hurried back to the parlor. "O, what a relief!" she cried, "I was so afraid there would be somebody left I'd overlooked." "I'm about dead," said Wendell. "Nan, you ought to warn people when you have tea fights and celebrities. I tried to escape once I'd got in, but Fanshaw held on to my coat." He got up from where he had sat crouched in the corner by the window and walked over to the teatable. "Any food left?" "Here, you poor child," said Nancibel, bouncing a section of sticky chocolate cake on to a plate. "I'll make some fresh tea in a minute. Do you realize that this afternoon is the first triumph in a career of fashionable music? O, it's too silly ..." She burst out laughing, letting herself drop limply into a chair. "I thought it was going a little far when the stout, red-haired lady sailed in with those two poor little men like a liner being tugged up to the wharf," said Fanshaw, who still stood with his back to the unlit gaslogs. "That's the famous Mrs. Hammond Tweed, who writes animal stories," burst out Nancibel, carried off on a fresh gust of hysterical laughter. "The way she said Ah when Salinski wriggled out of a cadenza, like people watching sky-rockets." Nancibel rolled about on her chair. What fun it was to be giggling like this with Wenny and Fanshaw, like children who've done something naughty. Through the tears in her eyes she could see, beyond the big brass-topped teatable stacked with used teacups and crumb-covered plates where here and there a cigarette but blackened with its ash a few drops of tea left in a spoon, Wenny's brown face convulsed with laughter and greediness as he stuffed hunks of chocolate cake into his mouth. And Fitzie thinks I'm angling after old Salinski. The thought came to make her laugh the harder. Her foot knocked against the leg of the teatable and all the cups rattled. "Look out, Nan, you'll have it over," said Fanshaw. "Wouldn't care if I did. I'd like to smash something." "You shan't smash Confucius there, young lady. I'll not let you." Fanshaw put the big blue Chinese teapot in a place of safety on the mantelpiece. Nan got to her feet and wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. "O, dear!... But I must give you children some fresh tea to make up for all you've suffered."