"Well, she holds them, at any rate. I dare say it's more than you do with yours."
"Oh, yes, she holds them; there's no mistake about that. 'I hold them, I hope, hein?' she seems to say to all the house." The young English professional laughed goodhumouredly, and Sherringham was struck with the pleasant familiarity he had established with their brave companion. He was knowing and ready, and he said, in the first entr'acte (they were waiting for the second to go behind), amusing, perceptive things. "They teach them to be ladylike, and Voisin is always trying to show that. 'See how I walk, see how I sit, see how quiet I am and how I have le geste rare. Now can you say I ain't a lady?' She does it all as if she had a class."
"Well, to-night I'm her class," said Miriam.
"Oh, I don't mean of actresses, but of femmes du monde. She shows them how to act in society."
"You had better take a few lessons," Miriam retorted.
"You should see Voisin in society," Sherringham interposed.
"Does she go into it?" Mrs. Rooth demanded, with interest.
Sherringham hesitated. "She receives a great many people."
"Why shouldn't they, when they're nice?" Mrs. Rooth continued.
"When the people are nice?" Miriam asked.
"Now don't tell me she's not what one would wish," said Mrs. Rooth to Sherringham.
"It depends upon what that is," he answered, smiling.
"What I should wish if she were my daughter," the old woman rejoined, blandly.
