ing
a good game myself, and having on more than one occasion won most of the
money in the Upper House at school.

I was early at the theater. No one was there, and women were going
around taking covers off the seats. My fifty cents gave me a good seat,
from which I opined, alas, that the shop girl had been right and busness
was rotten. But at last, after hours of waiting, the faint tuning of
musicle instruments was heard.

From that time I lived in a daze. I have never before felt so strange.
I have known and respected the Other Sex, and indeed once or twise been
kissed by it. But I had remained Cold. My Pulses had never flutered.
I was always conserned only with the fear that others had overseen
and would perhaps tell. But now--I did not care who would see, if only
Adrian would put his arms about me. Divine shamlessness! Brave Rapture!
For if one who he could not possably love, being so close to her in her
make-up, if one who was indeed employed to be made Love to, could submit
in public to his embrases, why should not I, who would have died for
him?

These were my thoughts as the Play went on. The hours flew on joyous
feet. When Adrian came to the footlights and looking aparently square
at me, declaimed: "The World owes me a living. I will have it," I almost
swooned. His clothes were worn. He looked hungry and ghaunt. But how
true that

"Rags are royal raimant, when worn for virtue's sake."

(I shall stop here and go down to the Pantrey. I could eat no dinner,
being filled with emotion. But I must keep strong if I am to help Adrian
in his Trouble. The minse pie was excelent, but after all pastrey does
not take the place of solid food.)

LATER: I shall now go on with my recitle. As the theater was almost
emty, at the end of Act One I put on the pink hat and left it on as
though absent-minded. There was no one behind me. And, although during
Act One I had thought that he perhaps felt my presense, he had not once
looked directly at me.

But the hat captured his erant gaze, as one may say. And, after capture,
it remained on my face, so much so that I flushed and a woman sitting
near with a very plain girl in a Skunk Coller, observed:

"Realy, it is outragous."

Now came a moment which I thrill even to recolect. For Adrian plucked
a pink rose from a vase--he was in the Milionaire' s house, and was
starving in the midst of luxury--and held it to his lips.

The rose, not the house, of course. Looking over