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Griffin, who was winking at her behind Elinor's back in a particularly portentous fashion, turned to the door. "Hush," cautioned Patricia, using her eyes industriously. "It must be all right, or Bruce wouldn't have brought us. I like it. The floor is sanded, Judy! And those people at the snippy little tables under the stairs are French—just hear them gabble to the waiter." Elinor laid her hands on the table and Patricia could see that the fingers were twisted together until the knuckles showed white..

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He dropped her hand at the obsequious voice of the waiter at his elbow. "Very good," said Jen to himself. "That matter is settled, and Etwald--confound him!--will obtain his desire. I wonder what he wants to see us all about." She followed Elinor into the larger room where a feeble daylight, filtering in through heavily grated basement windows, struggled with the flaring gas jets, and the odor of cocoa and bread and butter mingled with sachet and the fumes of turpentine and paint. "Molly," she said with a deliciously young giggle, "Tom says you are to send him two guineas to spend getting the brass band to polish up before the six o'clock train, by which your Mr. Bennett comes. He has spent a guinea already to induce them to clean up their uniforms, and it cost him five pounds to bail the cornettist out of gaol for roost robbing. He says I am to tell you that, as this is your festivity, you ought at least to pay the piper. Hurry up, he's waiting for me, and here's the kiss he told me to put on your left ear!".