“Are these two bothering you, miss?” the usher who’d refused to let them in asked Eileen.

“No. Hush, Theodore,” Eileen said. “They—”

“They attempted before to enter the theater without paying,” the usher who’d refused to let them in told the balcony usher.

“The hell we did,” Mike said.

“We have tickets,” Polly said quickly, handing the usher hers. “Show him your ticket, Mike. We only wanted to speak with our friend for a moment. Something’s happened at home—”

“I don’t want to go home!” Theodore wailed and burst into noisy tears.

The governess tugged on Polly’s sleeve. “You said something had happened at home? Has there been a raid? Has someone in his family been—”

“No,” Polly said, and was instantly sorry. It was the perfect excuse for getting him out of there. But their usher had already pounced. “Then it’s scarcely an emergency,” he said, snatching the tickets from the balcony usher. He looked at them. “These tickets are for row eight in the orchestra. You don’t even belong in this section.”

“I know,” Mike said angrily. “We were only trying to speak to this young lady—”

The lights blinked off and then on again.

“The curtain’s about to rise,” the balcony usher said. “I’m afraid I must ask you to return to your seats. You can speak to your friend during the interval.”

“But—”

“I want to see the pantomime!” Theodore wailed.

“And so you shall, young man,” the usher said, glaring at Mike and Polly. “Sir, madam, either take your seats, or I’ll be forced to escort you from the theater.”

“Go sit down,” Eileen said, leaning across the little girls to put her hand on Mike’s. “It’ll be all right.”

“But we don’t have time—”

“I know. It’ll be all right. I promise.”

How? Polly wondered as they were led ignominiously back down to their seats.

“What does she mean, it’ll be all right?” Mike asked her.

“I don’t know. Perhaps she can persuade Theodore to leave—”

“Persuade him? Fat chance.” He rubbed his leg where Theodore had kicked him. “And what if she can’t?”

“Then I’m afraid we must wait for the interval,” Polly said, looking back up the center aisle where their usher stood guard, his arms militantly folded. “Perhaps you’d better go on to St. Paul’s, and I’ll bring Eileen when I can.”

He shook his head. “We’re all going together or we’re not going at all.” They sat down. “How many acts till the interval?”

Polly opened her program to see. The pantomime, which was titled Rapunzel: A Wartime Christmas Pantomime, consisted of only two acts, but under Act One were listed at least a dozen songs, as well as dance numbers, magic acts, juggling acts, and performing dogs.

Oh, no, we’ll be here forever, she thought. And no wonder Sir Godfrey hated pantomime so. It looked more like a vaudeville show than a play.

“I want it to begin,” the little boy next to Polly said.

“So do I,” she told him.