They had agreed that it would be better for Betty to go in alone; but she wished, as she opened the door and groped her way up a steep, narrow flight of stairs, that she had still the protection of Jim’s unruffled, confident presence. She met two men on the stairs. One took no notice of her, the other tossed a “Late again, eh? You’ll be docked,” over his shoulder, and hurried on. At the top of the flight Betty halted aimlessly. Stage hands were busy moving battered scenery. A woman’s querulous voice clamored impatiently for “Daisy!” Then above everything rose a man’s angry remonstrance.