Philip Curtiss

“ Reluctantly the host allowed them to pass on to where Bellony, the big, red-faced tenor, was standing, absolutely alone, looking off into space. On him Miss Marshall wasted no time, making only the briefest and most perfunctory of introductions, to which the tenor replied with only a nod, giving Bellsmith a huge, damp, lifeless hand—the hand of a laborer turned soft. Beyond, they again encountered Elsie Winner, talking now with Mrs. Trip the "heavy" woman, and the assistant stage-manager, the latter a pleasant and curiously rustic-looking young man with curly hair and spectacles. ”

“ In the "Eleanor" company this girl was evidently regarded as whatever may be the feminine equivalent of a "card," for a group of men was constantly around her and every word she said was invariably greeted with uproarious laughter. Usually one of the men had his arm over her shoulder, not, certainly, from any affection, but merely to draw out the vicious retort which she would inevitably make. As the evening progressed this girl became more and more the center of attraction, and, to the men of the company, seemed more and more convulsing, although Bellsmith could see nothing amusing about her. ”

“ The rather appalling risk of meeting this girl, before a group ready to applaud any impertinence, was an ordeal which was fortunately spared Bellsmith. Before his guide and he reached her, two waiters had appeared in the room, and Tommy Knight began hammering loudly with a dessert-spoon on the table. In his other hand was one of his inevitable sherbet glasses of the birthday punch which, from having been first the color of water and then having changed to brown, had now, by some unexplained process, become a mild pink. ”

“ In a faint, polite eddy of laughter the guests proceeded to find their places by simply taking the nearest unoccupied chairs, but before they could actually sit down, Charlie Barnes, unwilling to let any ceremony go by so completely without his assistance, rapped at his end of the table, and the guests halted expectantly, still standing.
Barnes raised his glass, and Bellsmith, having seen him on the stage that evening, waited eagerly for something really good; but Barnes, like most Yoricks, was determined to see himself in a serious rôle. ”

“ Both girls smiled, and all three of his guests lifted their glasses.
"Well, Tommy," proposed Miss Marshall, "'ere's to young marster just a-coomin' of age!"
With the best of intentions she began to drink the toast, but the first sip ended in a choke and a violent cough. Tears came to her eyes. The punch was practically crude gin.
The host looked at her in concern. "What is it? Raw?" he asked. "Here! Let me get you another. It may be better now."
He seized her glass earnestly, but Miss Marshall clung to it. "No, Tommy, please," she begged. "This is all right. ”

“ With a nervous and excited, "Make yourselves at home, people: have a drink, Mr. Bellsmith," the host leaped away and went back to a small group of his fellow-players, who were busily engaged in pouring bottles of gin into a punch-bowl. Prominent in this group were the aggressive, stocky shoulders of Charlie Barnes, the comedian, with his short-cropped hair and his snuff-colored suit, a rather uncouth figure in these surroundings. As usual, Charlie Barnes was protesting loudly in his whining voice, advancing emphatic ideas as to how, in his opinion, a punch should be mixed. ”

“ All men and women whose birth was obviously below her own she dismissed as "common." All those whose circumstances were unmistakably above hers she stigmatized as "dowdy" or "nouveau." One half of the formula served for Charlie Barnes, as one is forced to fear the other half would, if occasion arose, have served for the Archbishop of Canterbury. For it is needless to say that women like Celestine Trip never meet any one of their own exact social status, and it is equally needless to say that not all such women are English. ”

“ Miss Marshall smiled. "Naturally. I can't somehow picture Tommy Knight celebrating a birthday party with lady fingers. Where is it?"
"In a private dining-room," prattled on Miss Winner, more and more the eager but consciously hollow promoter of gaiety. "Can't you come somehow? They 're waiting for you."
Bellsmith interposed politely. "By all means," he said, "if you want to go, don't let me—"
But both girls objected at once. "Oh, you must come too," begged Miss Winner. "The more the merrier." ”

“ The daughter of a small magistrate or something of that sort in the south of England, educated in a superficial sense and, in her youth, skirting socially on the edges of the minor gentry, she had, almost in middle life, eloped with a perfectly honest and hard-working actor who would have cared for her decently and worshiped her honorably had she not patronized and hectored him into his grave. ”