ith a dressing-room all to herself. I can't ever quite get used
to that, you know, though I sail around there with all the airs of the
leading lady. Sometimes I see a twinkle in Fred Obermuller's eye when
I catch him watching me, and goodness knows he's been glum enough of
late, but it wasn't--

Yes, I'm going to tell you, but--it's rattled me a bit, Maggie. I'm
so--so sorry, and a little--oh, just a little, little bit glad!

I'd slammed the door behind me--the old place is out of repair and the
door won't shut except with a bang--and I had just squatted down on the
floor to unbutton my high shoes, when I noticed the chintz curtains in
front of the high dressing-box waver. They must have moved just like
that when I was behind them months--it seems years--ago. But, you see,
Topham had never served an apprenticeship behind curtains, so he didn't
suspect.

"Lordy, Nancy," I laughed to myself, "some one thinks you've got a rose
diamond and--"

And at that moment he parted the curtains and came out.

Yes--Tom--Tom Dorgan.

My heart came beating up to my throat and then, just as I thought I
should choke, it slid down to my boots, sickening me. I didn't say a
word. I sat there, my foot in my lap, staring at him.

Oh, Maggie-girl, it isn't good to get your first glimpse after all
these months of the man you love crouched like a big bull in a small
space, poking his close-cropped black head out like a turtle that's not
sure something won't be thrown at it, and then dragging his big bulk
out and standing over you. He used to be trim--Tom--and taut, but in
those shapeless things, the old trousers, the dirty white shirt, and
the vest too big for him--

"Well," he said, "why don't you say something?"

Tom's voice--Mag, do you remember, the merry Irish boy's voice, with
its chuckles like a brook gurgling as it runs?

No--'tisn't the same voice. It's--it's changed, Maggie. It's heavy
and--and coarse--and--brutal. That's what it is. It sounds like--like
the knout, like--

"Nance--what in hell's--"

"I think I'm--frightened, Tom."

"Oh, the ladyfied airs of her! Ain't you going to faint, Miss Olden?"

I got up.

"No--no. Sit down, Tom. Tell me about it. How--how did you get here?"

He went to the door, opened it a bit and looked out cautiously.
Mag--Mag--it hurt me--that. Why, do you suppose?

"You're sure nobody'll come in?" he asked.

I turned the key in the lock, forgetting that it didn't really