`I wonder where did they dig her up,' said Kathleen to Miss Healy. `I'm sure I never heard of her.'

Miss Healy had to smile. Mr Holohan limped into the dressing-room at that moment and the two young ladies asked him who was the unknown woman. Mr Holohan said that she was Madam Glynn from London. Madam Glynn took her stand in a corner of the room, holding a roll of music stiffly before her and from time to time changing the direction of her startled gaze. The shadow took her faded dress into shelter but fell revengefully into the little cup behind her collar-bone. The noise of the hall became more audible. The first tenor and the baritone arrived together They were both well dressed, stout, and complacent, and they brought a breath of opulence among the company.

Mrs Kearney brought her daughter over to them, and talked to them amiably. She wanted to be on good terms with them but, while she strove to be polite, her eyes followed Mr Holohan in his limping and devious courses. As soon as she could she excused herself and went out after him.

`Mr Holohan, I want to speak to you for a moment, she said.'

They went down to a discreet part of the corridor. Mrs Kearney asked him when was her daughter going to be paid. Mr Holohan said that Mr Fitzpatrick had charge of that. Mrs Kearney said that she didn't know anything about Mr Fitzpatrick. Her daughter had signed a contract for eight guineas and she would have to be paid. Mr Holohan said that it wasn't his business.

`Why isn't it your business?' asked Mrs Kearney. `Didn't you yourself bring her the contract? Anyway, if it's not your business, it's my business, and I mean to see to it.'

`You'd better speak to Mr Fitzpatrick,' said Mr Holohan distinctly.

`I don't know anything about Mr Fitzpatrick,' repeated Mrs Kearney. `I have my contract, and I intend to see that it is carried out.'

When she came back to the dressing-room her cheeks were slightly suffused.