'I guess you're a Tartar to-day,' said the pretty thing, with a touch of her American sauciness. 'We haven't studied it out yet. It was only yesterday afternoon he kissed me for the first time.' Then she bent towards me with her characteristic plaintive, wistful appeal. 'Say! You aren't vexed, Selina, are you, because of this? Of course, he wants me to tour with him after we're married, and do a double act. He's got lots of dandy ideas for a double act. But I won't, I won't, Selina, unless you say the word. Now, don't you go and be cross, Selina.' I let myself expand generously. 'My darling girl!' I said, glancing at her kindly. 'You ought to know me better. Of course I'm not cross. And of course you must tour with Valdès. I shall be all right. How do you suppose I managed before I invented you?' I smiled like an indulgent mother. 'Oh! I didn't mean that,' she said. 'I know you're frightfully clever. I'm nothing----' 'I hope you'll be awfully happy,' I whispered, squeezing her hand. 'And don't forget that I introduced him to you--I knew him years before you did. I'm the cause of this bliss----Do you remember that cold morning in Berlin?' 'Oh! well, I should say!' she exclaimed in ecstasy. When we reached our rooms in the hotel I kissed her warmly. Women do that sort of thing. Then a card was brought to me. 'George Capey,' it said; and in pencil, 'Of the Five Towns.' I shrugged my shoulders. Sally had gone to scribble a note to her Valdès. 'Show Mr. Capey in,' I said, and a natty young man entered, half nervousness, half audacity. 'How did you know I come from the Five Towns?' I questioned him. 'I am on the _Evening Mail_,' he said, 'where they know everything, madam.' I was annoyed. 'Then they know, on the _Evening Mail_ that Paquita Qita has never been interviewed, and never will be,' I said. 'Besides,' he went on, 'I come from the Five Towns myself.' 'Bursley?' I asked mechanically. 'Bursley,' he ejaculated; then added, 'you haven't been near old Bosley since----' It was true. 'No,' I said hastily. 'It is many years since I have been in England, even. Do they know down there who Qita is?' 'Not they!' he replied. I grew reflective. Stars such as I have no place of origin. We shoot up out of a void, and sink back into a void. I had forgotten Bursley and Bursley folk. Recollections rushed in upon me.... I felt beautifully sad. I drew off my gloves, and flung my hat on a chair with a movement that would have bewitched a man of the world, but Mr. George Capey was unimpressed. I laughed. 'What's the joke?' he inquired. I adored him for his Bursliness. 'I was just thinking, of fat Mrs. Cartledge, who used to keep that fishmonger's shop in Oldcastle Street, opposite Bates's. I wonder if she's still there?' 'She is,' he said. 'And fatter than ever! She's getting on in years now.' I broke the rule of a lifetime, and let him interview me. 'Tell them I'm thirty-seven,' I said. 'Yes, I mean it. Tell them.'