The window appeared to be brilliantly illuminated behind the drawn curtains; and Quarren, surprised and vexed, concluded that the little Englishman was again entertaining. So it perplexed and astonished him to find the Earl sitting on the front steps, his straw hat on the back of his head, smoking. At the same moment from within the house a confused and indescribable murmur was wafted to his ears as though many people were applauding. "What on earth is going on inside?" he asked, bewildered. "You told me over the telephone that Karl Westguard might have the gallery for this evening," said the Englishman calmly. "So I let him have it." "What did he want of it? Who has he got in there?"--demanded Quarren as another ripple of applause sounded from within. Dankmere thought a moment: "I really don't know the audience, Quarren--they're not a very fragrant lot." "What audience? Who are they?" "You Americans would call them a 'tough-looking bunch--except Westguard and Bleecker De Groot and Mrs. Caldera----" [Illustration: "A high and soulful tenor was singing 'Perfumes of Araby.'"] "Cyrille Caldera and De Groot! What's that silly old Dandy doing down here?" "Diffusing sweetness and light among the unwashed; telling them that there are no such things as classes, that wealth is no barrier to brotherhood, that the heart of Fifth Avenue beats as warmly and guilelessly as the heart of Essex Street, and that its wealth-burdened inhabitants have long desired to fraternise with the benchers in Paradise Park." "Who put Westguard up to this?" asked Quarren, aghast. "De Groot. Karl is writing a levelling novel calculated to annihilate caste. The Undertaker next door furnished the camp-chairs; the corner grocer the collation; Westguard, Mrs. Caldera, and Bleecker De Groot the mind-food. Go in and look 'em over." The front door was standing partly open; the notes of a piano floated through; a high and soulful tenor voice was singing "Perfumes of Araby," but Quarren did not notice any as he stepped inside. Not daring to leave his suit-case in the hallway he kept on along the passage to the extension where the folding doors were locked. Here he deposited his luggage, locked the door, then walked back to the front parlour and, unobserved, slipped in, seating himself among the battered derelicts of the rear row. A thin, hirsute young man had just finished scattering the perfumes of Araby; other perfumes nearly finished Quarren; but he held his ground and gazed grimly at an improvised platform where sat in a half-circle and in full evening dress, Karl Westguard, Cyrille Caldera and Bleecker De Groot. Also there was a table supporting a Calla lily.