the
entrance opposite the box, and peering through the glass, like a
detective. I knew I was afraid that he would keep his word and try to
give me the slip. I never asked myself what difference it would make
to me if he did. I simply took up the strange unexplained task he had
given me as if to me it were a matter of life or death.

Even before the curtain fell, I had hurried round the house and
placed myself with my back to the door, so that I could not miss him
as he passed, and yet had no appearance of watching him. It was well
that I did, for in an instant the door opened. He came out and passed
me quickly, followed by a tall slender woman in a straight wrap that
fell from her head to the ground, and the domino-like hood which
completely concealed her face.

As he drew her hand through his arm, he looked back at me, over his
shoulder. His eyes met mine. They seemed to say, "Is it you, old
True-penny?" But he merely bent his head courteously and with his lips
said, "Come!" I felt sure that he shrugged his shoulders resignedly,
as he saw that I kept my word, and followed.

At the door he found his carriage. He assisted his companion in. Then
in the gentlest manner he said in my ear, as he stood aside for me to
enter, "In with you. My honor is saved, but repentance dogs its
heels."

To the lady he said, "This is the friend whom you were kind enough to
permit me to ask for supper."

She made no reply.

I uncovered my head to salute her, murmuring some vague phrase of
thanks, which was, I am sure, inaudible. Then Rodriguez followed, and
took his place beside me on the front seat.

As the door banged I could have sworn that the lady, whose face was
concealed behind the falling lace of her hood, as if by a mask, spoke.

He thought so, too, for he leaned forward as if to catch the words.
Evidently we were mistaken, for he received no response. He murmured
an oath against the pavements and the noise, and turned a smiling face
to me--and I? Why, I smiled back!

As we rattled over the pavings, through the lighted streets, no one
spoke. The lady leaned back in her corner. Opposite her Rodriguez
hummed "Salve! dimora" and I beside him, sat strangely confused and
inert, still as if in a dream.

I had not even noted the direction we were taking, until I found that
we had stopped in front of a French restaurant, one of the few
Bohemian resorts the town boasted.

Rodriguez leaped out, assisted the lady, and I followe