le face of her
husband, a look in his eyes, a sound in his voice, even a movement, sent
a slight chill through her heart. But these faintly disagreeable
sensations passed swiftly from her. The whirling round of life took her,
swept her on. She had scarcely time to think, though she had always time
to feel intensely.

Often during these days of fierce preparation she was separated from
Claude. He had innumerable things to do connected with the production.
Charmian haunted the opera house, but was seldom actually with Claude
there, though she often saw him on the stage or in the orchestra, heard
him discussing points concerning his work. And Claude was very often
away, when rehearsals did not demand his attention, visiting the singers
who were to appear in the opera, going through their roles with them,
trying to imbue them with his exact meaning. Charmian meanwhile was with
some of the many friends she had made in New York.

Thus it happened that Claude was able to meet Mrs. Shiffney several
times without Charmian's knowledge.

It was an understood thing--and Charmian knew this--that Mrs. Shiffney
was to come to the first full rehearsal of the opera. The verdict in
advance was to be given and taken. Mrs. Shiffney had called once at the
St. Regis, when Claude was out, and had sat for ten minutes with
Charmian. And Charmian had called upon her at the Ritz-Carlton and had
not found her. Here matters had ended in connection with "Adelaide," so
far as Charmian knew. Mrs. Shiffney had multitudes of friends in New
York, and was always rushing about. It never occurred to Charmian that
she had any time to give to Claude, or that Claude had any time to give
to her. But Mrs. Shiffney always found time to do anything she really
cared to do. And just now she cared to meet Claude.

Long ago in London, when he was very genuine, she had been attracted by
him. Now, in New York, when he was dressed up in motley, with painted
face and eyes that strove, though sometimes in vain, to be false, he
fascinated her. The new Claude, harder, more dominant, secretly unhappy,
feverish with a burning excitement of soul and brain, appealed to this
woman who loved all that was strange, exotic, who hated and despised the
commonplace, and who lived on excitement.

She threw out one or two lures for Claude, and he, who in London had
refused her invitations, in New York accepted them. Why did he do this?
Because he had flung away his real self, because