Madame De Rosa led her quickly down a dark corridor and a moment later
she found herself in a dazzling blaze of light, in the prima donna's
dressing-room.
The ceiling was low, the walls were white, and innumerable electric
lamps, with no shades, filled the place with a blinding glare. It all
looked bare and uncomfortable, and very untidy. There was a
toilet-table, covered with little pots of grease and paint, and
well-worn pads and hare's-feet, and vast stores of hairpins, besides a
quantity of rings and jewels of great value, all lying together in
bowls in the midst of the confusion. A tall mirror stood on one side,
with wing mirrors on hinges, and bunches of lamps that could be moved
about. On one of the walls half-a-dozen theatrical gowns and cloaks
hung limply from pegs. Two large trunks were open and empty not far
from the door. The air was hot and hard to breathe, and smelt of many
things.
There were three people in the room when the two visitors entered;
there was a very tall maid with an appallingly cadaverous face and
shiny black hair, and there was a short fat maid who grinned and showed
good teeth at Madame De Rosa. Both wore black and had white aprons, and
both were perspiring profusely. The third person was an elderly man in
evening dress, who rose and shook hands with the retired singer, and
bowed to Margaret. He seemed to be a very quiet, unobtrusive man, who
was nevertheless perfectly at his ease, and he somehow conveyed the
impression that he must be always dressed for the evening, in a
perfectly new coat, a brand-new shirt, a white waistcoat never worn
before, and a made tie. Perhaps it was the made tie that introduced a
certain disquieting element in his otherwise highly correct appearance.
He wore his faded fair hair very short, and his greyish yellow beard
was trimmed in a point. His fat hands were incased in tight white
gloves. His pale eyes looked quietly through his glasses and made one
think of the eyes of a big fish in an aquarium when it swims up and
pushes its nose against the plate-glass front of the tank to look at
visitors.
The eyes examined Margaret attentively.
'Monsieur Schreiermeyer, this is Miss Donne, my pupil,' said Madame De
Rosa.
'Enchanted,' mumbled the manager.
He continued to scrutinise the young girl's face, and he looked so much
like a doctor that she felt as if he were going to feel her pulse and
tell her to put out her tongue. At the thought, she smiled pleasantly.