"You missed a treat, old man. There was no one to touch her in boys' parts in burlesque. A dashed fine woman she is--though I say it, dashed fine!" He seemed to reflect a moment. "She's a spiritualist. I wish she wasn't. Spiritualism gets on her nerves. I've no use for it myself, but it's her life. It gives her fancies. She got some sort of a silly notion--don't tell her I said this, Carlie--about Rosetta Rosa. Says she's unlucky--Rosa, I mean. Wanted me to warn Smart against engaging her. Me! Imagine it! Why, Rosa will be the making of this opera season! She's getting a terrific salary, Smart told me." "It's awfully decent of you to offer me a seat," I began to thank him. "Stuff!" he said. "Cost me nothing." A clock struck softly. "Christopher! it's half-past twelve, and I'm due at the Diana at twelve. We're rehearsing, you know." We went out of the club arm in arm, Sullivan toying with his eye-glass. "Well, you'll toddle round to-night, eh? Just ask for my box. You'll find they'll look after you. So long!" He walked off. "I say," he cried, returning hastily on his steps, and lowering his voice, "when you meet my wife, don't say anything about her theatrical career. She don't like it. She's a great lady now. See?" "Why, of course!" I agreed. He slapped me on the back and departed. It is easy to laugh at Sullivan. I could see that even then--perhaps more clearly then than now. But I insist that he was lovable. He had little directly to do with my immense adventure, but without him it could not have happened. And so I place him in the forefront of the narrative. CHAPTER II AT THE OPERA It was with a certain nervousness that I mentioned Sullivan's name to the gentleman at the receipt of tickets--a sort of transcendantly fine version of Keith Prowse's clerk--but Sullivan had not exaggerated his own importance. They did look after me. They looked after me with such respectful diligence that I might have been excused for supposing that they had mistaken me for the Shah of Persia in disguise. I was introduced into Sullivan's box with every circumstance of pomp. The box was empty. Naturally I had arrived there first. I sat down, and watched the enormous house fill, but not until I had glanced into the mirror that hung on the crimson partition of the box to make sure that my appearance did no discredit to Sullivan and the great lady, his wife.