ingers think it a bad sign. Of course the opera cannot sound
really well when they keep stopping." Another thing helped her now. She
was joined by Alston Lake who was not on in the last act. He took her to
a box and they ensconced themselves in it together. Then he produced
from the capacious pockets of his overcoat a box of delicious sandwiches
and a small bottle of white wine. The curtain was still down. They had
time for a gay little supper.

How Charmian enjoyed it and Alston's optimism! The world changed. She
saw everything in another light. She ate, drank, talked, laughed. Mrs.
Shiffney and Ramer had vanished from the stalls, but Alston said they
were still in the theater. They were having supper, too, in one of the
lobbies. Crayford had just gone to see them.

"And is he satisfied?"

"Oh, yes. He says it's coming out all right."

"But it can't be ready by the date he's fixed for the first night!"

"Yes, it can. It's got to be."

"Well, I don't see how it can be."

"It will be. Crayford has said so. And that settles it."

"What an extraordinary man he is!"

"He's a great man!"

"Alston!"

"Yes, Mrs. Charmian?"

"He wouldn't make a great mistake, would he?"

"A mistake!"

"I mean a huge mistake."

"Not he! There goes the curtain at last."

"And there's Adelaide Shiffney coming in again. She is going to stay to
the end. If only this act goes well!"

She shut her eyes for a minute and found herself praying. The coffee,
the little supper had revived her. She felt renewed. All fatigue had
left her. She was alert, intent, excited, far more self-possessed than
she had been at any other period of the night. And she felt strongly
responsive. The power of Gillier's libretto culminated in the last act,
which was short, fierce, concentrated, and highly dramatic. In it Enid
Mardon had a big acting chance. She and Gillier had become great allies,
on account of her admiration of his libretto. Gillier, who had been
with her many times during the night, now slipped into the front row of
the stalls to watch his divinity.

"There's Gillier!" whispered Charmian. "He's mad about Miss Mardon."

"She's a great artist."

"I know. But, oh, how I hate her!"

"Why?"

But Charmian would not tell him. And now they gave themselves to the
last act.

It went splendidly, without a hitch. After the misery of the third act
this successful conclusion was the more surprising. It swept away all
Charmian's doubts. She fr