Claire did not
see them until she was leaving the stage, and she smiled as she saw
Flint lean over and pick up the opera-glasses from his wife's lap. But
this was not all. In a far corner sat Miss Munch and her cousin, Mrs.
Richards, their ferret eyes darting busily about and their tongues
clicking even more rapidly. Doubtless Flint had invested in a number of
tickets at the office for business reasons and passed them around for
any of the office force who felt a desire to see society at close range.
Claire had not meant to stay beyond one or two numbers following her own
appearance, but she kept yielding to Mrs. Condor's insistent suggestions
that she "stay for just one more," until she discovered, to her dismay,
that it was past midnight. The last artists were taking their places
upon the stage. Claire resigned herself to the inevitable and sat out
the remainder of the performance. She was making a quick exit into the
dressing-room when she came face to face with her aunt. Mrs.
Ffinch-Brown betrayed her confusion by the merest lift of the eyebrows,
and she stepped back as if to get a clearer view of her niece, as she
said with an air of polite surprise:
"You--_here_?"
Claire carried her head confidently. "I was on the program," she
returned, consciously eying the turquoise pendants.
Mrs. Ffinch-Brown rested a closed fan against her left ear as if to
screen at least one of the earrings from Claire's frank stare.
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