Good-night, Duchess.

Glad to see you're getting on with the socks, or stockings, do you call them ?" Insolent aristocratic, now and then attractive in some strange suggestive way, Lady Carey sat in front of the box and exchanged greetings with her friends.

Presently the Prince came in and took the chair between the two women.

Lady Carey greeted him with a nod.
"Here's Lucille dying to return to her lawful husband," she remarked.
"Odd thing, isn't it?
Most of the married women I ever knew are dying to get away from theirs.

You can make her happy or miserable in a few moments." The Prince leaned over between them, but he looked only at Lucille.
"I wish that I could," he murmured.