. Norman and another man looking at me, in the empty theatre
where all the chairs and boxes were covered up with sheets. They seemed
rather pleased with my dancing, and Mr. Norman said he would give me a
chance. Then, if I 'caught on'--he meant if people liked me--I should
have a salary. But I told him I must have the salary at once, as my
money would only last a few more days. I'd spent nearly all I had,
getting to New York. Very well, said he, I should have thirty dollars a
week to begin with, and after that, we'd see what we'd see. Well, people
did like my dances, and by and by Mr. Norman gave me what seemed then a
splendid salary. So now you know everything that's happened; and please
don't think I'd have worried you by talking so much about myself, if you
hadn't asked questions. I'm afraid I oughtn't to have done it, anyway."

Her tone changed, and became almost apologetic. She stirred uneasily in
her deck chair, and looked about half dazedly, as people look about a
room that is new to them, on waking there for the first time. "Why, it's
grown dark!" she exclaimed.

This fact surprised Stephen equally. "So it has," he said. "By Jove, I
was so interested in you--in what you were telling--I hadn't noticed.
I'd forgotten where we were."

"I'd forgotten, too," said Victoria. "I always do forget outside things
when I think about Saidee, and the golden dream-silence where I see her.
All the people who were near us on deck have gone away. Did you see them
go?"

"No," said Stephen, "I didn't."

"How odd!" exclaimed the girl.

"Do you think so? You had taken me to the golden silence with you."

"Where can everybody be?" She spoke anxiously. "Is it late? Maybe
they've gone to get ready for dinner."

From a small bag she wore at her belt, American tourist-fashion, she
pulled out an old-fashioned gold watch of the kind that winds up with a
key--her mother's, perhaps, on which she had borrowed money to reach New
York. "Something must be wrong with my watch," she said. "It can't be
twenty minutes past eight."

The same thing was wrong with Stephen's expensive repeater, whose
splendour he was ashamed to flaunt beside the modesty of the girl's poor
little timepiece. There remained now no reasonable doubt that it was
indeed twenty minutes past eight, since by the mouths of two witnesses a
truth can be established.

"How dreadful!" exclaimed Victoria, mortified. "I've kept you here all
this time, listening to me."

"Di