In a minute or
two almost everybody was speaking with an air of mystery. Miss Schley put
her lips to Leo Ulford's ear. Evidently she had a great deal to say to
him. He began to pout his lips in smiles. They both looked across at Lord
Holme. Then Miss Schley went on murmuring words into Leo's ear and Leo
began to shake with silent laughter. Lord Holme clenched his hands at his
sides. The French actor, still watching him closely, put up a fat
forefinger and meditatively traced the outline of his own profile,
pushing out his large flexible lips when the finger was drawing near to
them. The whole room was full of the tickling noise of half-whispered
conversation.
Presently the music stopped. Instantly the tickling noise stopped too.
There was languid applause--the applause of smart people on a summer
afternoon--from beyond the screen. Then the grave girl reappeared,
looking graver and hot. Those who had been busily talking while she was
playing gathered round her to express their delight in her kind
accompaniment. The pianist hurried up to a stout man with a low,
turned-down collar and a white satin tie, whose double chin, and general
air of rather fatuous prosperity, proclaimed him the possessor of a tenor
voice, and Miss Schley walked quietly, but with determination, up to
where Lady Holme was sitting and took a seat beside her.
"Glad to meet you again," she drawled.
She called Leo Ulford with a sharp nod.
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