too soon';
that he said he wouldn't let you be a manicure and wash the hands of men
who weren't fit to wash the streets you walked on."

There was a pause.

"Did I tell you he said that?" breathed Anita Flagg.

"You know you did," said Holworthy.

There was another pause.

"I must have been mad!" said the girl.

There was a longer pause and Holworthy shifted uneasily.

"I'm afraid you are angry," he ventured.

"Angry!" exclaimed Miss Flagg. "I should say I was angry, but not with
you. I'm very much pleased with you. At the end of the act I'm going to
let you take me out into the lobby."

With his arms tightly folded, Sam sat staring unhappily at the stage
and seeing nothing. He was sorry for himself because Anita Flagg had
destroyed his ideal of a sweet and noble woman--and he was sorry for
Miss Flagg because a man had been rude to her. That he happened to be
that man did not make his sorrow and indignation the less intense; and,
indeed, so miserable was he and so miserable were his looks, that his
friends on the stage considered sending him a note, offering, if he
would take himself out of the front row, to give him back his money at
the box office. Sam certainly wished to take himself away; but he did
not want to admit that he was miserable, that he had behaved ill, that
the presence of Anita Flagg could spoil his evening--could, in the
slightest degree affect him. So he sat, completely wretched, feeling
that he was in a false position; that if he were it was his own fault;
that he had acted like an ass and a brute. It was not a cheerful
feeling.

When the curtain fell he still remained seated. He knew before the
second act there was an interminable wait; but he did not want to chance
running into Holworthy in the lobby and he told himself it would be rude
to abandon Sister Anne. But he now was not so conscious of the imaginary
Sister Anne as of the actual box party on his near right, who were
laughing and chattering volubly. He wondered whether they laughed at
him--whether Miss Flagg were again entertaining them at his expense;
again making his advances appear ridiculous. He was so sure of it that
he flushed indignantly. He was glad he had been rude.

And then, at his elbow, there was the rustle of silk; and a beautiful
figure, all in black velvet, towered above him, then crowded past
him, and sank into the empty seat at his side. He was too startled to
speak--and Miss Anita Flagg seemed to understand