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 noyed by the sound of retreating footsteps, Why are they all going away?

No one ever stays for the last act of a vaudeville bill, Paul explained, but he was as much put out as Consuelo.

Why not? the child demanded.

It's taken for granted it will be dull.

No longer interrupted by the stamping of outgoing feet, the little group in the box devoted their exclusive attention to the stage. The act began tamely enough, as is customary with acrobats, with a prodigious amount of saltatorial exercise, allez houplaing, and fumbling with handkerchiefs. As it continued, there was a crescendo in the difficulty of the feats. Campaspe had adjusted her lorgnette. Without asking for an identification, she recognized Gunnar at once. The brothers wore moustaches and their hair was piled in a ridiculous fashion above their foreheads. O'Grady's hair was combed straight back and his face was clean shaven. And, although all three were dressed precisely alike in purple tights covering their bodies with the exception of the loins which were encased in indigo trunks, tricked out with gold ruchings and ribbons, she was immediately aware of still more subtle distinctions. It was evident, for instance, that O'Grady possessed a far superior skill to that of the Brothers Steel. Not only did he perform his part in the intricate manœuvres with