"If it were only true!" he said, looking questions. "Why not?" The game amused her, and besides, something perversely incited her to recklessness. Massingale was on the other side of her--Massingale, who, after the impudence of having comprehended her, treated her with only tepid interest. "Where shall I follow you? Paris or Dresden?" He stared at her with squinting eyes, not quite deceived, not quite convinced. At the end he laughed. "Pretty good--almost you fool me!" "You don't believe me?" she said, raising her eyes a moment to his. "Mademoiselle, your eyes have a million in each of them!" he said, after a moment, but not quite so calmly. "Will you give me your address?" "Why not?" she said, opening her hands in a gesture of surprise. "I will come!" he said, yet not entirely the dupe of her game. "Poor Count!" she said, with a quick change of manner. "You don't know what a dangerous animal we have here. Beware!" "What?" "The great American teaser!" she said, laughing. "Teaser--teaser! What is that?" She entered into an elaborate explanation, glancing into the mirror, striving from there to catch Massingale's look. "I say, angels!" said Buzzy, bubbling over with mischief. "I've got an idea!" "Buzzy has an idea!" "Good for Buzzy!" "We want to amuse the Count, don't we?" said Busby artfully. "Sure!..." "You bet!..." "Well, then, let's tell our real names!" Violetta Pax gave a scream of horror and retired blushing under her napkin at the storm of laughter her scream of confession had aroused. "Real name's Lou Burgstadter!" said Consuelo Vincent in a whisper to De Joncy, who had forgot her. Violetta Pax was on her feet in an instant. "Consuelo Vincent, I like your nerve!... Consuelo, indeed! Cassie Hagan!" she cried furiously. "Yes, and Carrie Slater, too, needn't put on airs!" The rest was lost in an uproar; the chorus girls were on their feet, protesting vigorously, all chattering at once, the men applauding and fomenting the tumult, Busby secretly enjoying the mischief he had exploded, running from one to the other, pleading, provoking, adding fuel to the burning. "Ladies!... Ladies! Remember there are gentlemen present!... Georgie, Violetta's giving you away!... Girls! Girls! Remember His Highness!... Paula, dear, you ought to hear what Georgie said, of you! Awful ... awful.... Now, dearies, behave!... remember your manners!" At the end of a moment, overcome with laughter, he capsized on a sofa in weak hysterics. Blood exclaimed that Busby had a fit, and thus procured a diversion which restored calm. Nevertheless, the storm had been so sudden that the wreckage was strewn about the room; Busby gathered them together again, conciliated every one and brought them back to their seats. Doré was excited by this outburst. At last the party promised something to her curiosity. She waited eagerly, her eyes dancing, her fingers thrumming on the cloth, curious to see these men, of whom she had heard so much, unmask.