"Georgie"
Drusilla sat down and glanced uneasily around.
The sparkling comedienne was still looking out of the window. Georgie cast a longing look in that direction, but he did not join her.
I think somehow that Mr. Wallace Lappin was used to explaining things. And the pianist shared my views, for he told me afterward that he could tell the tale better than any one he'd ever met.
"I'm sorry I've been so unlucky," he began with easy fluency. "I booked the hall and billed the town and the crowd didn't turn up. I couldn't show with one soubrette and a pianist, now, could I?"
I was amazed at the man's assurance.
"You ought," said I sternly, "to have faced the thing honestly instead of running away, and you might at least have paid their fares home again."
"Now, how could I?" asked Mr. Lappin pathetically, "without money? I hadn't a penny in the world the day before yesterday."
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