“Ah, so, Mademoiselle Gretry,” cried Monsieur Gerardy, “you left out the cue.” He became painfully polite. “Give the speech once more, if you please.”

“A dog would look bully on the stage,” whispered Landry. “And I know where I could get one.”

“Where?”

“A friend of mine. He’s got a beauty, blue grey⁠—”

They become suddenly aware of a portentous silence The coach, his arms folded, was gazing at Page with tightened lips.

“ ‘None who will remember me,’ ” he burst out at last. “Three times she gave it.”

Page hurried upon the scene with the words:

“ ‘Ah, another glorious morning. The vines are drenched in dew.’ ” Then, raising her voice and turning toward the “house,” “ ‘Arthur.’ ”