e."

"Very well, then. But I thank you for the honor you have done me in
asking me to fill the place."

Thayer rose with an air of decision, and the impresario could do nothing
else than follow his example. At the door, he turned back.

"Mr. Thayer, there is no use in my trying to conceal the fact that I
want you badly. If I will wait until a week from to-night, will you give
me your answer then?"

"I will," Thayer replied imperturbably.

"And sign the contracts on the spot?"

"I will," Thayer repeated; "but remember this: in the meantime, I am
binding myself to nothing. Good-night."

He went down the stairs with the impresario. When he returned to Arlt's
room, a moment later, he took up the conversation at the precise point
where they had dropped it; but, even in the dusky room, Arlt could see
that Thayer's eyes were blazing as he had never seen them till then. Not
long afterwards, Thayer glanced down at his own strong, slim hand that
rested on the table beside him. The fingers were moving restlessly and,
on the back, the cords twitched a little now and then. Thayer watched it
curiously for a moment. Then he clasped his hands on his knee and held
them there, motionless.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Above the murmur of talk of his guests, Lorimer's voice rose, high and
clear, merry as the voice of a happy child.

"It's a great night for you, Arlt, the night of your life. Ladies and
ge'men, le's drink to Mr. Arlt."

"You've done it once, Lorimer," Thayer interposed. "Arlt will be getting
more than is good for him."

"And so will you," he might have added; but there seemed to him a
certain impossibility in imposing a check upon a man in his own house
and in the presence of his own guests.

Lorimer laughed out blithely.

"Ne' mind. Arlt can stand it; his head is level. B'sides, las' time, I
drank to Arlt the composer. This time, it's to Arlt the accompanist. He
hasn' any business to play a double role, if he can' stan' the double
applause. To the success of Mr. Otto Arlt!"

Thayer raised his glass and set it down again, untasted. As he glanced
across at Arlt with an explanatory smile, he caught the eyes of Beatrix
fixed upon him imploringly. It was evident that she was putting her hope
in him to end the scene; but for the once Thayer was ready to confess
himself beaten. The house and the champagne both were Lorimer's. Under
these conditions, he was powerless to act. Moreover, he felt a sudden
impatience