grandpapas. God knows why. Why do you all love me, _hein_? _Une
Mystere_. Well, she was ver' old then, but she 'ave ze good 'ealth and
ze thick skin of ze rhinoceros. And some'ow no one 'ave ze 'eart to
tell 'er. It become a sort of joke--'ow long she keep going--ze
Boulevards make bets about it. But for me it is no joke. I am in a
'urry, _moi_, and I know I can do better than she did ever--I 'ave
something--'ere--'ere--that she never 'ave. And so one night I put a
leetle pinch of something that a good friend of mine give me in La
Jolleta's champagne what she drink before she dance, and when ze
call-boy come she lie there on ze sofa--'er mouth open--_comme
ca_--snoring--like a pink elephant asleep--'ow you say--squiffy--dead
to ze world. Ze manager 'e tear 'is 'air out, and then I come and show
'im and 'e let me go on instead because there is no one else. And the
people boo and shriek at me, they are so angry and I make ze long nose
at them all--and presently they laugh and laugh."

They could see her. It wouldn't have seemed even impudent. Even then
she had been too sure of herself.

"And when I come off ze manager kiss me on both cheeks. _Et c'etait
fait_."

They applauded joyously. Her brutal egotism was a good joke. They
expected nothing else from her. She was like an animal whose cruelty
and cunning one could observe without moral qualms.

"It was a mean thing to have done," Stonehouse said loudly and
truculently--"a treacherous thing."

A shadow was on Cosgrave's face. He leant towards her, almost pleading.