Lost trumpet

146 THE LOST TRUMPET
manager had insinuated himself between that desirable
entrance and the three of us. He bowed profoundly
to Aslaug Simonssen.
“Mademoiselle, but one guest is allowed at the
ball, as you know.,,
He was for some reason malevolent. Suddenly I
remembered. This was the man on whose chest our
cook Georgios had sat, and whose head he had used
so vilely to maltreat a wall. I said : “Do you know a
cook and musician, one Georgios Papadrapoulna-
kophitos ?”
The haughty Frenchman quite blanched. “But
certainly.”
I regarded him gravely. “He is of our party,
and is out in the night there with his bugle. If he
knew of any strict enforcement of rules I do not
doubt but that he would be pleased enough to stand
just inside the door and aid your orchestra.”
“The good God forbid ! Entrez, mesdames; entre,
M’sieu’ !” He flung open the door, casting the while
a terrified look towards the main entrance. As we
passed through we heard his voice shrill out an order
that the outer door should be closed immediately.
Aslaug and Pelagueya regarded me with surprise as
we stood in the glare of the ball-room and the per¬
spiring, unauthentic musicians beat and brayed with
their instruments, and, in a variety of dress, the
habitues of the Avallaire and their guests sailed to
and fro in the cataleptic measures of the fox-trot.
I explained.
The girl Aslaug smiled politely and unintelli-