't have a scandal in the theatre, Henry. Everybody heard
her....'

'The wicked old devil. Why didn't she keep her mouth shut?'

'She hates this girl you are all so crazy about.... Everybody heard
her. You can't keep a thing like that quiet once it has been said
publicly.'

'But she is wonderful, the most delicate Ariel. Mann isn't worrying
us. I cleared him out.'

'Excuse me,' said Verschoyle, intervening. 'I can assure you there
will be no trouble. I have seen to that. You have nothing to fear.'

'How sweet of you! Then I can tell everybody there is not a word of
truth in it.'

Verschoyle turned his back on them, and went in search of Clara, whom
he found trembling with fury on the stairs leading from her
dressing-room to the stage.

'How dare you let that woman insult me publicly?' she cried. 'How dare
you? How dare you? You ought to have killed her.'

Verschoyle stammered,--

'One can't kill people in the stalls of a London theatre.'

'She ought not to be allowed to live. Publicly! In the middle of the
play! ... Either she or I will leave the theatre.'

'I'll see what I can do,' he mumbled, 'only for God's sake don't make
it worse than it is.... Your only answer can be to ignore her. She'll
be crawling to you in a few months, for you are marvellous.'

Clara saw that he was right. To match herself against the
scandal-monger would be to step down to her level. To reassure her,
Verschoyle told her how he had been to Bloomsbury to settle matters.

'Where?' she asked.

He described the square and the house, and at once she had a foreboding
of disaster.

'Did you see any one else?'

'A queer fish I met at the door, with eyes that looked clean through
me, and that little squirt Clott. He is at the bottom of it all.'

Clara gave a little moan.

'O-oh! Why does everybody hate Charles so? Everybody betrays him....'

'Oh, come,' said Verschoyle, 'he isn't exactly thoughtful for other
people, is he?'

'That doesn't matter. Charles is Charles, and he must and shall
succeed.'

'Not if it smashes you.'

'Even if it smashes me.'

He took her hands and implored her to be sensible.

'You lovely, lovely child,' he said, 'if Charles can't succeed off his
own bat, surely, surely it means that there is something wrong with
him. Why should you suffer? Why should you be exposed all your life
to taunts and success and insults like that just now? It is all so
unnecessary.... I'll go