"Let me see—it was last Wednesday night."
"How odd!" exclaimed Miss Nora. "Papa did stop in town on Wednesday night."
"In what consists the oddity?" inquired her father. "I believe that I do, occasionally, spend a night in town. But does it therefore follow that I should play the piano, like a madman, at the Apollo Club? Though I can easily believe that if I did play the piano at the Apollo Club, or, indeed, anywhere else, that I should play it like a madman. I assure you that I can give you a circumstantial and satisfactory account of every hour I spent in town, Miss Nora."
"You pique my curiosity, Mr. Attree," said Mrs. Groome. "I should like to see this Mr. Isaac Goad, though possibly, and I think probably, the resemblance would not strike me so forcibly as it appears to have struck you."
The lady's words gave me an idea.
"Mrs. Groome, your wish can easily be gratified. Mr. Goad, I believe, plays again next week, and I shall be only too happy to get you as many tickets as you desire."
My suggestion was seized with avidity, though possibly with greater avidity by the daughters than by the parents. A party was made up then and there. Dawson could not go. The assizes were coming on, and he had had the pleasure of being summoned to serve on the grand jury. But Mr. and Mrs. Groome and the two girls were all to go. I was to meet them in town. We were to dine together, and afterwards I was to escort them to the Apollo Club.
