"No!" she interrupted. "I shall do my duty. Opposite you is Mademoiselle Drezani, the famous singer at Covent Garden. Do I need to tell you that, I wonder? Rudolf Maesterling, the dramatist, stands behind her there in the corner. He is talking to the wonderful Cléo, whom all the world knows. Monsieur Guyer there, he is manager, I believe, of the Alhambra; and talking to him is Marborg, the great pianist. The two ladies talking to my brother are Esther Hammerton, whom, of course, you know by sight. She is leading lady, is she not, at the Hilarity Theatre? The other one is Miss Ransome. They tell me that she is your only really great English actress." Peter nodded appreciatively. "It is all most interesting," he declared. "Now, tell me, please, who is the military person with the stiff figure and sallow complexion standing by the door? He seems quite alone." The girl made a little grimace. "I suppose I ought to be looking after him," she admitted, rising reluctantly to her feet. "He is a soldier just back from India--a General Noseworthy, with all sorts of letters after his name. If Mademoiselle Celaire is generous, perhaps we may have a few minutes' conversation later on," she added, with a parting smile. "Say, rather, if Mademoiselle Korust is kind," de Grost replied, bowing. "It depends upon that only." He strolled across the room and rejoined Mademoiselle Celaire a few moments later. They stood apart in a corner. "I should like my supper," Peter declared. "They wait for one more guest," Mademoiselle Celaire announced. "One more guest! Do you know who it is?" "No idea," she answered. "One would imagine that it was someone of importance. Are you any wiser than when you came dear master?" she added under her breath. "Not a whit," he replied promptly. She took out her fan and waved it slowly in front of her face. "Yet you must discover what it all means to-night or not at all," she whispered. "The dear Andrea has intimated to me most delicately that another escort would be more acceptable if I should honour him again." "That helps," he murmured. "See, our last guest arrives. Ah!" A tall, spare-looking man was just being announced. They heard his name as Andrea presented him to a companion: "Colonel Mayson!" Mademoiselle Celaire saw a gleam in her companion's eyes. "It is coming--the idea?" she whispered. "Very vaguely," he admitted. "Who is this Colonel Mayson?" "Our only military aeronaut," Peter replied. She raised her eyebrows. "Aeronaut!" she repeated doubtfully. "I see nothing in that. Both my own country and Germany are years ahead of poor England in the air. Is it not so?" Peter smiled and held out his arm. "See," he said, "supper has been announced. Afterwards Andrea Korust will play to us, and I think that Colonel Mayson and his distinguished brother officer from India will talk. We shall see."