It was a light, pleasant supper--vegetable soup, partridges _a
l'anglaise_, lobster and crisp bacon, then a bit of orange marmalade and
dead-ripe bananas. At the theater, they had a couple of seats in the
second row. The play had already begun, when they got there. None the
less, Goldie's presence roused up interest among the masculine element
in the boxes. Numbers of opera-glasses focused themselves at her. On the
stage, an actor profited by one of his exits to give her an almost
imperceptible smile, to which she replied with a nod.

Such marks of attention usually fill men of the world with pride and
complacency. But they disturb young lovers. According to the
temperaments of such youthful blades, public recognition of this kind
excites jealousy or shame. Enrique Darles felt suppressed and ill at
ease. A wave of hot blood burned in his cheeks. Not for one instant did
it occur to him that these grave, rich gentlemen--old men who never win
the favors of the demi-monde along the flowery path of real
affection--might be envying his beauty and his youth.

Alicia felt, in the student's silence, something of the embarrassment
that possessed him.

"What's the matter with you?" asked she. "Are you ashamed of being seen
with me?"

Enrique tried to seem astonished.

"Ashamed?" he repeated. "How could I be? On the contrary----"

And his fingers closed over hers with unspeakable ardor.

At the end of the act, the audience began to applaud. Many enthusiastic
voices called: "Author! Author!" Alicia clapped her hands wildly.

"Oh, how I'd like to know him!" cried she.

Enrique also applauded noisily, to please her. The curtain rose again,
in the midst of that uproarious tempest of triumph, and the author
appeared. His profile was aquiline; his theatrical triumphs and loose
way of living had enveloped him in a cloud of prestige, blent of talent
and scandal. He looked a little above forty, but his lithe body still
kept all the graceful activity of youth. The spot-light brilliantly
illuminated him; he smiled, with the arrogant expression and gestures of
a conqueror. Still applauding, Alicia exclaimed to Enrique:

"_Isn't_ he lovely? I've got to get some one to introduce me to him. My
friend Candelas knows him very well."

And her big green eyes widened with emotion. Her curly reddish hair
shook like a lion's mane, over her willful forehead. At that moment,
Enrique Darles once more felt himself small and obscure. He saw his l