Was she going to throw cold water over the flame, or to fan it?
She did not know.
When the curtain fell, the critics, who sometimes seem to enjoy
personally what they call very sad and disgraceful in print, were smiling
at one another. The blank faces of the men about town in the stalls were
shining almost unctuously. The smart Americans were busily saying to
everyone, "Didn't we say so?" The whole house was awake. Miss Schley
might not be much of an actress. Numbers of people were already bustling
about to say that she could not act at all. But she had banished dulness.
She had shut the yawning lips, and stopped that uneasy cough which is the
expression of the relaxed mind rather than of the relaxed throat.
Lady Holme sat back a little in the box.
"What d'you think of her?" she said to Sir Donald. "I think she's rather
piquant, not anywhere near Granier, of course, but still--"
"I think her performance entirely odious," he said, with an unusual
emphasis that was almost violent. "Entirely odious."
He got up from his seat, striking his thin fingers against the palms of
his hands.
"Vulgar and offensive," he said, almost as if to himself, and with a sort
of passion. "Vulgar and offensive!"
Suddenly he turned away and went out of the box.
"I say--"
Lady Holme, who had been watching Sir Donald's disordered exit, looked
round to Leo.
"I say--" he repeated. "What's up with pater?"
"He doesn't seem to be enjoying the play.
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