pretty mad on it. I was dead set on hearing Rosetta Rosa in ‘Lohengrin’ to-night, but there isn’t a seat to be had. I suppose I shall push myself into the gallery.”

“No, you won’t,” Sullivan put in sharply. “I’ve got a box. There’ll be a chair for you. You’ll see my wife. I should never have dreamt of going. Wagner bores me, though I must say I’ve got a few tips from him. But when we heard what a rush there was for seats Emmeline thought we ought to go, and I never cross her if I can help it. I made Smart give us a box.”

“I shall be delighted to come,” I said. “There’s only one Smart, I suppose? You mean Sir Cyril?”

“The same, my boy.