"I'm a bit stale, Violet; you'll have to excuse me if I'm stupid to-night. I came to be entertained."
Frankie Dean looked at him mischievously. "Never mind, Mr. Granthope, she'll come back."
It was obviously no more than a cant phrase, intended for a witticism. Mrs. Page, however, took it up with mock seriousness.
"Who's '_she_', now? _I'm_ back in the chorus again! There _was_ a time, Frank--" Her voice was sentimental; she tilted her head and looked at him, under half-closed eyelids, across the table.
"I say, Granthope, you ought to publish an illustrated catalogue of 'em. There's nothing doing for amateurs, nowadays. When women pay five dollars to have their hands held what chance is there for us?" This from Keith, with burlesque emphasis.
Mrs. Page would not be diverted. "No, but really, Frank; who _is_ she? I've quite lost track of your conquests."
"Oh, you know I'm wedded to my art," he said lightly.
"Yes, and it's the art of making love, isn't it?"
"'No further seek his merits to disclose,'" said Keith, and Fernigan added, "'Nor draw his frailties from their dread abode.'"
The girl from Santa Rosa looked suddenly bursting with intelligence, recognizing the quotation. She started to finish it, then stopped; her lips moved silently. Granthope smiled.
Frankie Dean had been watching her chance for another at his expense. Now she asked, with apparent frankness: "Mr. Granthope, can you tell character by the lines on the soles of the feet?"
"Science of Solistry," murmured Keith to the Santa Rosa girl.
"Let's try it!" Mrs. Page exclaimed. "I will, for one! Do you know my second toe's longer than my great toe? I'm awfully proud of it. I can prove it, too!"
The girl from Santa Rosa stared, her lips apart. "Why, every one's is, aren't they?"
"No such thing!" Mrs. Page stopped and almost blushed. A chorus of laughter.
"Oh, there are a good many better ways of telling character than that," said Granthope.
"Yes," Keith put in. "Indiscreet remarks, for instance."
Mrs. Page bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, if I were going in for indiscreet remarks I might make a few about _you_!"
Here Sully interposed. "Isn't this conversation getting rather personal? I move we discard all these low cards. This is no woman's club. The quiet life for mine."