"D'you know the hostess by sight?--I promised to meet Susan, but cut it rather fine. Point her out, will you? or give me a description." "Tall bony woman--face like the Sphinx--and big black pearls, suggesting the prize product of a poultry farm." "Sounds opulent. What time's supper? I say--there's Kilmarny! Now, who could have brought him?" "So it is." Merivale waved his hand. "Pity he's getting fat. I suppose Letty Urquhart. Have you heard of that smash?" "Yes." Thesiger nodded. "Bound to come to it--the pace he was goin'. Good old Urquhart! But I'm sorry for her--a nice little woman. What's she doing here, 'dans cette galere'?" "Well, I _think_..." he lowered his voice, "she's going to present the Cadell girl next season. Lady Leason's fixed it up--she's trying to help Letty. There's precious little left, you know, for her and the kids." "I don't blame her. Look at Kilmarny trying to dance the Tango! Let's stand here and watch. Oh--by the way, I heard rather a funny yarn about one of these new steps--'Bunny Hug' or something. Man was watching a girl in a sort of knot with her partner, and some one else objected on the score of Mother Grundy. 'Oh,' said the man--'I'm sorry for the girl. More danced against than dancing'--eh?--what!'" Merivale laughed, as they stood on the landing outside the ballroom watching the scene within. "Miss Cadell," said he, "is by way of being a beauty. Rather statuesque, with pale gold hair. Jinks knows her--you remember Jinks of Trinity--calls her 'The Heavy Angel!'--Rather a good name." He leaned a little forward. "There she goes, _now_ ... dancing with McTaggart--and not for the first time! He's in the running to-night. Pots of money, you know. Poppa was in biscuits--or beer--no! Cheese..." He broke off suddenly as a short red-faced man turned the corner abruptly and cannoned into them. He seemed all shirt front, a starched battering-ram, painfully hot and labouring for breath. "Sorry, sorry!" He stopped to apologize, puffing out the words with a forced cordiality. "Why aren't you dancing, you young men?--Want some partners? Let's see your cards." Thesiger stared at him with open disgust. "No--er--thanks." He turned to his friend as the thick-set man bustled away downstairs, mopping his brow with a large silk handkerchief. "Who's that bounder?" "Sh ... I--it's the host." "Good Lord!--that?" he frowned impatiently--"I can't see Susan--I've a great mind to cut it!" "Better wait for supper," Merivale suggested. "Look here"--he added--"if you're not already booked we'll have it together." "Righto!--and then you come on with me--for a game of 'Chemmy,' eh?--I feel in luck to-night." "Well ... we'll see. How's Mrs. Merrod?" His dark eyes twinkled as he watched Thesiger's face. "The fair Fantine?--oh--goin' pretty strong ... How are you, McTaggart----?" He broke off to greet a couple approaching. The man nodded back. "Hullo, Archie?--d'you know Miss Cadell?"