Across it with an aisle between were narrow wooden benches with backs.

At the opposite end was a stage, with the curtain up and a portable stove occupying the center.

At the stove a woman in a chemise and underskirt, with slippers on her bare feet, was toiling over several pots and pans with fork and spoon.

At the edge of the stage, with legs swinging, sat another woman, in a blue sailor suit neither fresh nor notably clean but somehow coquettish.

Two men in flannel shirts were seated, one on each of the front benches, with their backs to her.
As Burlingham went down the aisle ahead of her, he called out: "Ladies and gentlemen, I wish to present the latest valuable addition to our company--Miss Lorna Sackville, the renowned ballad singer." The two men turned lazily and stared at Susan, each with an arm hanging over the back of the bench.
Burlingham looked at the woman bent over the stove--a fat, middle-aged woman with thin, taffy-yellow hair done sleekly over a big rat in front and made into a huge coil behind with the aid of one or more false braids.