anything, if possible; I am sorry to say I haven't a penny. But as you know people at the other theatres, and I have heard you say that you do each other little favours, from place to place—à charge de revanche, as the French say—it occurred to me that you might be able to get me an order. The piece has been running a long time, and most people (except poor devils like me) must have seen it: therefore there probably isn't a rush.'
Mr. Vetch listened in silence, and presently he said, 'Do you want a box?'
'Oh no; something more modest.'
'Why not a box?' asked the fiddler, in a tone which Hyacinth knew.
'Because I haven't got the clothes that people wear in that sort of place, if you must have such a definite reason.'
'And your young lady—has she got the clothes?'
'Oh, I daresay; she seems to have everything.'
'Where does she get them?'
'Oh, I don't know. She belongs to a big shop; she has to be fine.'
'Won't you have a pipe?' Mr. Vetch asked, pushing an old tobacco-pouch across the table to his visitor; and while the young man helped himself he puffed a while in silence. 'What will she do with you?' he inquired at last.
'What will who do with me?'
'Your big beauty—Miss Henning. I know all about her from Pinnie.'
'Then you know what she'll do with me!' Hyacinth returned, with rather a scornful laugh.
'Yes, but, after all, it doesn't very much matter.'
