all der last season, and make no kick. Dunder! vat you vant--an
angel? You don't hafe to take dot bart mit me, or Meester Lane either,
don 't it, hey?"

Miss Norvell turned contemptuously away from him, her face white with
determination.

"If you really want to know, there is only one man in all your troupe I
would consent to play it with," she declared calmly.

"Und dot is?"

"I do not even know his name," and she turned her head just
sufficiently to look directly into Albrecht's surprised face; "but I
refer to your new utility man; he, at least, possesses some of the
ordinary attributes of a gentleman."

The door of her dressing-room opened and closed, leaving the startled
manager standing alone without, gasping for breath, his thick lips
gurgling impotent curses, while Winston discreetly drew farther back
amid the intricacy of scenery.

CHAPTER III

A BREAKING OF ICE

The troupe in its wandering arrived at Bolton Junction early on a
Saturday afternoon, and Winston, lingering a moment in the hotel
office, overheard Miss Norvell ask the manager if they would probably
spend Sunday there; and later question the hotel clerk regarding any
Episcopalian services in the town. Their rather late arrival, however,
kept him so exceedingly busy with stage preparation for the evening's
performance that this conversation scarcely recurred to mind until his
night's labor had been completed. Then, in the silence of his room, he
resolved upon an immediate change in conditions, or else the deliberate
giving up of further experiment altogether. He was long since tired
enough of it, yet a strange, almost unaccountable attraction for this
young woman continued binding him to disagreeable servitude.

He came down stairs the following morning, his plans completely
determined upon. He was carefully dressed in the neat business suit
which had been packed away ever since his first reckless plunge into
theatrical life, and thus attired he felt more like his old self than
at any moment since his surrender to the dictation of Albrecht. In
some degree self-confidence, audacity, hope, came promptly trooping
back with the mere donning of clean linen and semi-fashionable attire,
so that Winston "utility" became Winston gentleman, in the twinkling of
an eye. The other members of the troupe slept late, leaving him to
breakfast alone after vainly loitering about the office in the hope
that Miss Norvell might by some chance appea