Rot! What's the good of inquiries?"
Fenn's brother suggested mildly that inquiries were a good beginning.
You _must_ start somehow. Mr Higgs scouted the idea.
"There ought not to be any doubt, sir. They ought to _know_. To
KNOW," he added, with firmness.
At this point there filtered through the closed doors the strains of
the opening chorus.
"By Jove, it's begun!" said Fenn's brother. "Come on, Bob."
"Where are we going to?" asked Fenn, as he followed. "The wings?"
But it seemed that the rules of Mr Higgs' company prevented any
outsider taking up his position in that desirable quarter. The only
place from which it was possible to watch the performance, except by
going to the front of the house, was the "flies," situated near the
roof of the building.
Fenn found all the pleasures of novelty in watching the players from
this lofty position. Judged by the cold light of reason, it was not
the best place from which to see a play. It was possible to gain only
a very foreshortened view of the actors. But it was a change after
sitting "in front".
The piece was progressing merrily. The gifted author, at first silent
and pale, began now to show signs of gratification. Now and again he
chuckled as some _jeu de mots_ hit the mark and drew a quick gust
of laughter from the unseen audience. Occasionally he would nudge Fenn
to draw his attention to some good bit of dialogue which was
approaching.
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