“Suppose I do know,” Mr. Chalker replied, wishing ardently that he did, “do you think I am going to betray trust—­a solicitor betray trust—­and for nothing?  But if you want to talk real business, Joe, come to my office.  You know where that is.”

Joe knew very well; in fact, there had been more than one difficulty which had been adjusted through Mr. Chalker’s not wholly disinterested aid.

Then the singer appeared again attired in a new and startling dress, and Joe began once more to applaud again with voice and stick.  Mr. Chalker, surprised at this newly-developed enthusiasm for art, left him and walked up the hall, and sat down beside the chairman, whom he seemed to know.  In fact, the chairman was also the proprietor of the show, and Mr. Chalker was acting for him in his professional capacity, much as he had acted for Mr. Emblem.

“Who is your new singer?” he asked.

“She calls herself Miss Carlotta Claradine.  She’s a woman, let me tell you, Mr. Chalker, who will get along.  Fine figure, plenty of cheek, loud voice, flings herself about, and don’t mind a bit when the words are a leetle strong.  That’s the kind of singer the people like.  That’s her husband, at the far end of the room—­the big, good-looking chap with the light mustache and the cigarette in his mouth.”

“Whew!” Mr. Chalker whistled the low note which indicates Surprise.  “That’s her husband, is it?  The husband of Miss Carlotta Claradine, is it?  Oho! oho!  Her husband!  Are you sure he is her husband?”

“Do you know him, then?”

“Yes, I know him.  What was the real name of the girl?”

“Charlotte Smithers.  This is her first appearance on any stage—­and we made up the name for her when we first put her on the posters.  I made it myself—­out of Chlorodyne, you know, which is in the advertisements.  Sounds well, don’t it?  Carlotta Claradine.”

“Very well, indeed.  By Jove!  Her husband, is he?”

“And, I suppose,” said the chairman, “lives on his wife’s salary.  Bless you, Mr. Chalker, there’s a whole gang about every theater and music hall trying to get hold of the promising girls.  It’s a regular profession.  Them as have nothing but their good looks may do for the mashers, but these chaps look out for the girls who’ll bring in the money.  What’s a pretty face to them compared with the handling of a big salary every week?  That’s the sort Carlotta’s husband belongs to.”

“Well, the life will suit him down to the ground.”

“And jealous with it, if you please.  He comes here every night to applaud and takes her home himself.  Keeps himself sober on purpose.”

And then the lady appeared again in a wonderful costume of blue silk and tights, personating the Lion Masher.  It was her third and last song.

In the applause which followed, Mr. Chalker could discern plainly the stick as well as the voice of his old friend.  And he thought how beautiful is the love of husband unto wife, and he smiled, thinking that when Joe came next to see him, he might, perhaps, hear truths which he had thought unknown, and, for certain reasons, wished to remain unknown.