As soon as she crossed the threshold of the star dressing-room she smelt greasepaint. The dressing-shelf was bare, the room untenanted, but the smell of cosmetics mingled with the faint reek of gas. There were isolated dabs of colour on the shelves and the looking-glass; the lamp-bulbs were smeared with cream and red where sticks of greasepaint had been warmed at them and on a shelf above the wash-basin somebody had left a miniature frying-pan of congealed mascara in which a hair-pin was embedded.

It was a largish room, windowless and dank, with an air of submerged grandeur about it. The full-length cheval-glass swung from a gilt frame. There was an Empire couch, an armchair and an ornate stool before the dressing-shelf. The floor was carpeted in red with a florid pattern that use had in part obliterated. A number of dress-boxes bearing the legend ‘Costumes by Pierrot et Cie’ were stacked in the middle of the room and there were two suitcases on the shelf. A gas-heater stood against one wall and there was a caged jet above the wash-basin.

‘Here we are,’ said the doorkeeper. ‘All yer own.’

She turned to thank him and encountered a speculative stare. ‘Cosy,’ he said, ‘ain’t it?’ and moved nearer. ‘Nice little hidey-hole, ain’t it?’

‘You’ve been very kind,’ Martyn said. ‘I’ll manage splendidly now. Thank you very much indeed.’

‘Don’t mention it. Any time.’ His hand reached out clumsily to her. ‘Been aht in the rain,’ he said thickly. ‘Naughty girl.’

‘I’ll soon dry off. I’m quite all right.’

She moved behind the pile of dress-boxes and fumbled with the string on the top one. There was a hissing noise. She heard him strike a match and a moment later was horribly jolted by an explosion from the gas-heater. It forced an involuntary cry from her.

‘ ’Allo, ‘allo!’ her companion said. ‘Ain’t superstitious, are we?’

‘Superstitious?’

He made an inexplicable gesture towards the gas-fire. ‘You know,’ he said, grinning horridly at her.

‘I’m afraid I don’t understand.’

‘Don’t tell me you never ‘eard abaht the great Jupiter case! Don’t they learn you nothing in them anti-podes?’

The heater reddened and purred.

‘Come to think of it,’ he said, ‘it’d be before your time. I wasn’t here myself when it occurred, a-course, but them that was don’t give you a chance to forget it. Not that they mention it direct-like but it don’t get forgotten.’

‘What was it?’ Martyn asked against her will.

‘Sure yer not superstitious?’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘You ain’t been long in this business, then. Nor more am I. Shake ‘ands.’ He extended his hand so pointedly that she was obliged to put her own in it and had some difficulty in releasing herself.