stalls.  Also Mr. Gilman and Madame Piriac and Monsieur Piriac in a double box.  Audrey and herself ought to have been in that box, and had the afternoon developed otherwise they probably would have been in that box.  Fortunately at the luncheon, Audrey, who had bought various lots of seats, had with the strange cautiousness of a young girl left herself free to utilise or not to utilise the offered hospitality of Mr. Gilman’s double box, and Mr. Gilman had not pressed her for a decision.  Was it not important that the hall should seem as full as possible?  When Miss Ingate, pushing her investigations farther, had discovered not merely Monsieur Dauphin, but Mr. Ziegler, late of Frinton and now resident in Paris, her cup was full.

“It’s vehy wonderful, vehy wonderful!” said she.

But it was Audrey who most deeply had the sense of the wonderfulness of the thing.  For it was Audrey who had created it.  Having months ago comprehended that a formal and splendid debut was necessary for Musa if he was to succeed within a reasonable space of time, she had willed the debut within her own brain.  She alone had thought of it.  And now the realisation seemed to her to be absolutely a miracle.  Had she read of such an affair a year earlier in a newspaper—­with the words “Paris,” “tout Paris,” “young genius,” and so on—­she would have pictured it as gloriously, thrillingly romantic, and it indeed was gloriously and thrillingly romantic.  She thought:  “None of these people sitting around me know that I have brought it about, and that it is all mine.”  The thought was sweet.  She felt like an invisible African genie out of the Thousand and One Nights.

And yet what had she done to bring it about?  Nothing, simply nothing, except to command it!  She had not even signed cheques.  Mr. Foulger had signed the cheques!  Mr. Foulger, who set down the whole enterprise as incomprehensible lunacy!  Mr. Foulger, who had never been to aught but a smoking-concert in his life, and who could not pronounce the name of Beethoven without hesitations!  The great deed had cost money, and it would cost more money; it would probably cost four hundred pounds ere it was finished with.  An extravagant sum, but Xavier had motor-cars and toys even more expensive than motor-cars to keep up!  Audrey, however, considered it a small sum, compared to the terrific spectacular effect obtained.  And she was right.  The attributes of money seemed entirely magical to her.  And she was right again.  She respected money with a new respect.  And she respected herself for using money with such large grandeur.