"How much is it?" asked Alexandra in a dispirited voice. "Two pounds—five altogether with last week’s bill." To Maggy’s amazement Alexandra handed her the amount. "Write the receipt and go, please," she said. When they were alone Maggy stood still waiting for an explanation. "Where did you get it?" To add to her astonishment Alexandra began to cry brokenly. She had never seen her give way before. "Lexie, darling, what is it?" Her voice was sharp with alarm. Alexandra stopped crying as suddenly as she had begun. "A fortnight’s salary in lieu of notice," she said. "I think I’ve been walking ever since. The pavements were hot, and—my head." Maggy said nothing more. With a world of sympathy in her touch she unpinned Alexandra’s hat. Alexandra sat with her hands in her lap staring in front of her. Maggy knelt on the floor and gently drew off her friend’s shoes, brought slippers and put them on, after which she poured out a cup of tea and silently put it before her. This was dire news. Lexie would tell her more by and by. Maggy knew she couldn’t talk now. She couldn’t have said a word herself without breaking down. Tea would relieve the tension. There came an irresolute knock at the door, and their landlady thrust in an arm and a plate. "Shrimps was passing so I’ve bought you a pint for a relish, dears," came a conciliatory whine. To save argument Maggy took them and shut the door again. "W-what a mixture!" she gasped hysterically. "Temptation and tea, t-tears and—shrimps!" VII Alexandra began to tell about her sudden dismissal. De Freyne had been in a good temper and apparently had no grievance against her. Every one in the chorus knew there was always the chance of not being kept on for the run of the piece. He was the managerial autocrat of stageland and he did what he liked. A fortnight’s notice or a fortnight’s salary in lieu of notice discharged his obligations so far as his chorus was concerned. Quite formally and with much the same stereotyped form of regret as an editor employs in rejecting a suitable contribution, he told Alexandra that he did not feel himself justified in retaining her services. "Are you—dissatisfied with me?" she faltered, utterly taken aback. "No, not exactly. You’re a hard worker." "Then—?" "I simply find I don’t need you. I’m sorry, but there it is." "Is it—because I didn’t get a new dress when you spoke to us? I couldn’t afford to," she said simply. De Freyne fidgeted with some papers on his desk. "Oh, that’s all finished and done with," he answered without looking at her. "But I’d like to know where I’ve failed, please, Mr. De Freyne. It’s very important that I should know. I shall have to find another engagement." De Freyne gave her a searching look.