but Whitaker paid no heed to the lines
she spoke. He was staring, fascinated, at her face.

Sight of it set the seal of certainty upon conviction: she was one with
Mary Ladislas. He had forgotten her so completely in the lapse of years
as to have been unable to recall her features and colouring, yet he had
needed only to see to recognize her beyond any possibility of doubt.
Those big, intensely burning eyes, that drawn and pallid face, the
quick, nervous movements of her thin white hands, the slenderness of her
tall, awkward, immature figure--in every line and contour, in every
gesture and inflection, she reproduced the Mary Ladislas whom he had
married.

And yet ... Max was whispering over his shoulder:

"Wonderful make-up--what?"

"Make-up!" Whitaker retorted. "She's not made up--she's herself to the
last detail."

Amusement glimmered in the manager's round little eyes: "You don't know
her. Wait till you get a pipe at her off the stage." Then he checked the
reply that was shaping on Whitaker's lips, with a warning lift of his
hand and brows: "Ssh! Catch this, now. She's a wonder in this scene."

The superb actress behind the counterfeit of the hunted and hungry
shop-girl was holding spell-bound with her inevitable witchery the most
sophisticated audience in the world; like wheat in a windstorm it swayed
to the modulations of her marvellous voice as it ran through a
passage-at-arms with the termagant. Suddenly ceasing to speak, she
turned down to a chair near the footlights, followed by a torrent of
shrill vituperation under the lash of which she quivered like a whipped
thoroughbred.

Abruptly, pausing with her hands on the back of the chair, there came a
change. The actress had glanced across the footlights; Whitaker could
not but follow the direction of her gaze; the eyes of both focussed for
a brief instant on the empty aisle-seat in the fourth row. A shade of
additional pallor showed on the woman's face. She looked quickly,
questioningly, toward the box of her manager.

Seated as he was so near the stage, Whitaker's face stood out in rugged
relief, illumined by the glow reflected from the footlights. It was
inevitable that she should see him. Her eyes fastened, dilating, upon
his. The scene faltered perceptibly. She stood transfixed....

[Illustration: Her eyes fastened, dilating, upon his. The scene faltered
perceptibly]

In the hush Max cried impatiently: "What the devil!" The words broke the
spell