She even clapped a little in spasmodic enthusiasm.
Presently she peered at her program again.
"There wouldn't be time, I suppose, to telephone between the scenes," she hazarded wistfully.

"There are sixteen of those!" "Well, hardly! Billy, you aren't paying one bit of attention to the play!" "Why, of course I am," whispered Billy, indignantly.

"I think it's perfectly lovely, and I'm perfectly contented, too--since I found out about those five acts, and as long as I _can't_ have the sixteen scenes," she added, settling back in her seat.
As if to prove that she was interested in the play, her next whisper, some time later, had to do with one of the characters on the stage.
"Who's that--the nurse?
Mercy! We wouldn't want her for Baby, would we ?" In spite of himself Bertram chuckled this time.

Billy, too, laughed at herself.

Then, resolutely, she settled into her seat again.
The curtain was not fairly down on the first act before Billy had laid an urgent hand on her husband's arm.
"Now, remember; ask if he's waked up, or anything," she directed.