'Don't be a silly little ass,' Archie murmured to his sister. 'Why, in
some countries women would be sent to prison unless they took their hats
off at a play!'
The three reached the theatre in what even Archie called good time. This
meant to be alone in the dark, gloomy theatre for at least twenty
minutes, no-one present as yet, except two or three people eating
oranges in the gallery. He liked to be the first and the last.
Edith was fancying to herself how Madame Frabelle would lay down the law
about the history of Kingston, and read portions of the guide-book
aloud, while Bruce was pointing out the scenery.
The entertainment, which was all odds and ends, entertained the
children, but rather bored her. Archie was learning by heart--which was
a way he had--the words of a favourite song now being sung--
'Kitty, Kitty, isn't it a pity,
In the city you work so hard,--
With your one, two, three, four, five,
Six, three, seven, five, Cerrard?
Kitty, Kitty, isn't it a pity,
That you're wasting so much time?
With your lips close to the telephone,
When they might be close to mine_!'
When Edith's eye was suddenly attracted by the appearance of a boy in
khakis, who was in a box to her right.
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