nto her corner. 'Leave me, leave me, go away!' she said, in
the lowest tone that he could hear. The whole house seemed to her to be
listening to her, pressing into the box.

'Leave you alone--in this place--when I love you? I can't do
that--indeed I can't.'

'You don't love me--and you torture me by staying!' Laura went on, in a
convulsed voice. 'For God's sake go away and don't speak to me, don't
let me see you or hear of you again!'

Mr. Wendover still stood there, exceedingly agitated, as well he might
be, by this inconceivable scene. Unaccustomed feelings possessed him and
they moved him in different directions. Her command that he should take
himself off was passionate, yet he attempted to resist, to speak. How
would she get home--would she see him to-morrow--would she let him wait
for her outside? To this Laura only replied: 'Oh dear, oh dear, if you
would only go!' and at the same instant she sprang up, gathering her
cloak around her as if to escape from him, to rush away herself. He
checked this movement, however, clapping on his hat and holding the
door. One moment more he looked at her--her own eyes were closed; then
he exclaimed, pitifully, 'Oh Miss Wing, oh Miss Wing!' and stepped out
of the box.

When he had gone she collapsed into one of the chairs again and sat
there with her face buried in a fold of her mantle. For many minutes she
was perfectly still--she was ashamed even to move. The one thing that
could have justified her, blown away the dishonour of her monstrous
overture, would have been, on his side, the quick response of
unmistakable passion. It had not come, and she had nothing left but to
loathe herself. She did so, violently, for a long time, in the dark
corner of the box, and she felt that he loathed her too. 'I love
you!'--how pitifully the poor little make-believe words had quavered out
and how much disgust they must have represented! 'Poor man--poor man!'
Laura Wing suddenly found herself murmuring: compassion filled her mind
at the sense of the way she had used him. At the same moment a flare of
music broke out: the last act of the opera had begun and she had sprung
up and quitted the box.

The passages were empty and she made her way without trouble. She
descended to the vestibule; there was no one to stare at her and her
only fear was that Mr. Wendover would be there. But he was not,
apparently, and she saw that she should be able to go away quickly.
Selina would have taken the car