"She ought to marry the prompter or the box-keeper," said Nash. "Then it would be all right. I think indeed they generally do, don't they?"
Sherringham felt for a moment a strong disposition to drop his companion on the spot—to cross to the other side of the street and walk away without him. But there was a different impulse which struggled with this one and, after a minute, overcame it—the impulse which led to his saying presently: "Has she told you that—that she's in love with Nick?"
"No, no—that's not the way I know it."
"Has Nick told you, then?"
"On the contrary, I've told him."
"You've rendered him a questionable service if you've no proof," said Peter.
"My proof is only that I've seen her with him. She's charming, poor thing."
"But surely she isn't in love with every man she's charming to."
"I mean she's charming to me," Nash replied. "I see her that way. But judge for yourself—the first time you get a chance."
"When shall I get a chance? Nick doesn't come near her."
"Oh, he'll come, he'll come; his picture isn't finished."
"You mean he'll be the box-keeper then?"
"My dear fellow, I shall never allow it," said Gabriel Nash. "It would be idiotic and quite unnecessary. He's beautifully arranged, in quite a different line. Fancy his taking that sort of job on his hands! Besides, she would never
