[He enters the Show, followed by the Tall Nonentity, and the bulk of the bystanders, who feel that the veil is about to be lifted, and that twopence is not an exorbitant fee for initiation.  Inside is a low Stage, with a roughly painted Scene, and a kind of small Cabinet, the interior of which is visible and vacant; behind the barrier which, separates the Stage from the Audience stands Mlle. SCINTILLA, a young lady in a crimson silk blouse and a dark skirt, who if not precisely a Modern Helen, is distinctly attractive and reassuringly material.

The C.C. Oh, I say, if this is a Mahatma, I like ’em!

    [The Sibyl receives this tribute with a smile.

The Sp.  G. (appearing on the Stage as Showman).  Now, Ladies and Gentlemen! (There is one Lady present, who stands at the side, by way of indicating that she declines to give the proceedings any moral support whatever.) You all know that Adepts have the power of disintegrating material objects and re-integrating them when they please.  I have here a hollow mask. (He exhibits a Pantomime demon head.) I place it upon the roof of this cabinet, which as you perceive is empty.  I raise it—­and underneath you will see materialised a wonderful young lady who consists of a head and nothing else. (He discovers the head of a very human young person with short curly hair.) Now those of you who are unmarried would find this young lady an admirable wife for a man of small income, for, having no body, she will cost him nothing whatever for her food or frocks.

The C.C. (with a touch of cynicism).  She’d make it up in ’ats and bonnets, though; trust ’er!

The Showman.  She is extremely sweet-tempered; and, when she observes a number of good-looking gentlemen in the front row, as there are to-night, she will smile affectionately at them.

    [The Head gives a very practical confirmation of this
    assertion, and the Lady in the corner sniffs with strong
    disapproval.

The C.C. ’Ere, I say—­where’s my friend?  I want to take my ’ook out o’ this—­the young Lady’s ‘ed is a smilin’ at me, and it ain’t good enough, yer know—­she’s left too much of herself at ’ome to suit me!

The Showman (after extinguishing the Head, which is giggling helplessly, in the Mask).  Now this other, young Lady, Mlle. SCINTILLA, known to her friends as “SPARKS,” is equally wonderful in her way.  It may surprise you when I inform you—­(here he puts his arm affectionately round the Sibyl’s neck)—­that, beautiful as she is, she has never been kissed in her whole life!

The C.C. (with chivalrous indignation).  What?  Ere, if that’s all!—­

    [He intimates, in pantomime, his perfect readiness to repair
    this omission at once.