search of the demanded article. There was a flutter of fans through the heated chamber. An old gentleman already suffered from a sad and correct drunkenness. Two young men strolled out, feeling their hips. This recognition scene became more general.
After Drains's number absinthe was served in goblets.
Next came the acrobats, four brothers from the halls, professionals in pink fleshings, with spangled ruching about their middles. The orchestra played I'm just wild about Harry. The fans pursued their endless game. After this turn the Ceylonese servants served arrack in crystal bowls, and passed cigarettes with lighters on beaten copper trays.
Now the glow in the auditorium was extinguished. The Ceylonese boys set fire to braziers and the odour of Narcisse Noir permeated the atmosphere. Again, the orchestra played Bunny's music, the incidental music he had composed for Nozière's baroque comedy, l'Après-midi Byzantine, music which began with a faint roll of drums, which grew louder and louder and then died away. Now a clarinet, solo, played a plaintive, incestuous melody in a scale much higher than that which is usually associated with this instrument. The saxophone took up the thread, playing a few bars, and when the saxophone had finished, the double-bass had something indelible to say. Then, quite unreasonably, the piano held a soliloquy. Campaspe was glad that she was
