484 ANGEL PAVEMENT

they went, passing a chocolate and gold platoon or two
and a portrait gallery of film stars, whose eyelashes
seemed to stand out from the walls like stout black
wires, until they reached a door that led them to the
dim summit of the Balcony, which fell dizzily away in a
scree of little heads. It was an interval between pictures.
Several searchlights were focussed on an organ-keyboard
that looked like a tiny gilded box, far below, and the
organ itself was shaking out cascades of treacly sound,
so that the whole place trembled with sugary ecstasies.
But while they waited in the gangway, the lights faded
out, the gilded box dimmed and sank, the curtains
parted to reveal the screen again, and an enormous
voice, as inhuman as that of a genie, announced that
it would bring the world's news not only to their eyes
but to their ears.

"One? This way, sir/' and the attendant went down,
flashing his light. This was always an exciting moment
for Turgis. He might find himself next to some wonder-
ful girl, as lonely as he was, who would talk to him,
squeeze his hand, let him take her home, and kiss him in
the darkness of some mysterious suburb. The great
adventure might begin at the end of that pointing
pencil of light. On the other hand, he might find him-
self miserably wedged in between two fat middle-aged
people. It was all a gamble, with the odds heavily
against the wonderful girl, as he knew too well. But
still, there was always a chance, and he never walked
down these dark steps behind the electric torch with-
out feeling a mounting excitement.

The light pointed along a row, and he followed it,
pushing past a dozen indignant knees. The last pair
was very stubborn, and he negotiated them without en-