Lushington might think of her when spring violets were near him,
Logotheti might associate with her the intoxicating perfumes of the
East, but Margaret's favourite scent was already that strange compound
of smells which meets the nostrils nowhere in the world except behind
the scenes. I have often wondered why the strong draught that comes
from the back when the curtain is up does not blow the smell into the
house, to the great annoyance of the audience; but it does not.
Perhaps, like everything else behind the curtain, it is not real, after
all; or perhaps it has a very high specific gravity, and would stay
behind even if all the air passed out, preferring the vacuum which
nature abhors--nothing would seem too absurd to account for the
phenomenon.

It did not occur to Margaret to wonder that there should be a draught
at all, at the end of a closed corridor. She stood on the threshold,
resting one hand on the door-post and looking towards the stage. In the
distance she could see it, somewhere in the neighbourhood of what is
technically described as L 3, where a group of courtiers and court
ladies were standing ready to go on in the Introduction. The border
lights were up already, Margaret could see that, and just then she
heard the warning signal to be ready to raise the curtain, and the
first distant notes of the orchestra reached her ears. She breathed a
sigh of relief. The long-wished-for ordeal had begun at last, and the
tension of her nerves relaxed. The sensation was strangely delicious
and quite new to her; the quiet and solitude of the dressing-room would
not be disagreeable now, nor the steady gaze of the sallow-faced maid.

She turned half round to step back, and in so doing faced the end of
the corridor. She had not the slightest idea of what was beyond the
door she saw there, and which she had not noticed before, but she saw
that it was now not quite shut, and that it moved slowly on its hinges
as if it had been more open until that moment. So far as she knew there
was no reason why it should be closed, but a little natural curiosity
moved her to go and see what there was on the other side of it. It was
not three steps from her own door, yet when she reached it, it was
tightly closed, and when she took hold of the handle of the latch it
resisted the effort she made to open it, though she had not heard the
key turn in the lock. This seemed strange, but being under the
influence of a much stronger excitemen