The curtain went down amidst rapturous applause. The dancer had left the stage, floating away into some sort of wonderfully-contrived nebulous background. Within a few moments, the principal comedian of the day was telling stories. Sir Timothy led them away. “But how on earth do you get all these people?” Lady Cynthia asked. “It is arranged for me,” Sir Timothy replied. “I have an agent who sees to it all. Every man or woman who is asked to perform, has a credit at Cartier's for a hundred guineas. I pay no fees. They select some little keepsake.” Margaret laughed softly. “No wonder they call this place a sort of Arabian Nights!” she declared. “Well, there isn't much else for you to see,” Sir Timothy said thoughtfully. “My gymnasium, which is one of the principal features here, is closed just now for a special performance, of which I will speak in a moment. The concert hall I see they are using for an overflow dance-room. What you have seen, with the grounds and the winter-garden, comprises almost everything.” They moved back through the hall with difficulty. People were now crowding in. Lady Cynthia laughed softly. “Why, it is like a gala night at the Opera, Sir Timothy!” she exclaimed. “How dare you pretend that this is Bohemia!” “It has never been I who have described my entertainments,” he reminded her. “They have been called everything--orgies, debauches--everything you can think of. I have never ventured myself to describe them.” Their passage was difficult. Every now and then Sir Timothy was compelled to shake hands with some of his newly-arriving guests. At last, however, they reached the little sitting-room. Sir Timothy turned back to Wilmore, who hesitated. “You had better come in, too, Mr. Wilmore, if you will,” he invited. “You were with Ledsam, the first day we met, and something which I have to say now may interest you.” “If I am not intruding,” Wilmore murmured. They entered the room, still jealously guarded. Sir Timothy closed the door behind them. CHAPTER XXXIV The apartment was one belonging to the older portion of the house, and had been, in fact, an annex to the great library. The walls were oak-panelled, and hung with a collection of old prints. There were some easy-chairs, a writing-table, and some well-laden bookcases. There were one or two bronze statues of gladiators, a wonderful study of two wrestlers, no minor ornaments. Sir Timothy plunged at once into what he had to say.