whatever that assistant might suppose to the contrary, but I had never before seen such acting as hers, nor had I ever seen so lovely a woman! And it was Bessie Moore who had come through my bedroom window, at dead of night, in that plum-coloured cloak. Every moment the wonder grew.
Either the expression of my face or something else about me appeared to afford that assistant considerable amusement. In the midst of my bewilderment I was conscious that he grinned.
"You look surprised," he said.
"It is possible for persons of even ripened years to feel surprised, as you will discover when you yourself attain to years of discretion."
I fancy that it was my intention to crush that smiling youngster, though I suspect that the result of my little effort was only to increase my appearance of imbecility. At any rate, his grin did not grow less. I proceeded with my inquiries.
"What is Miss Moore's address?"
"The Pandora Theatre."
"Thank you; I am aware of that. It is her private address which I require."
"That, I am afraid, we cannot give you."
No doubt they were pestered with similar inquiries by individuals who were more or less idiots, and altogether impertinent; and, quite possibly, he took me for a member of that considerable family. I gave him my card.
