"He waits!" Marie cried dramatically.
Lina, exhausted, was crumpled, panting, in her easy chair.
"Where? Where is be?"
"He is by this time in Madame's carriage. Outside the theater. I, myself, have arranged these details. I have indeed attended to everything," Marie declared boastfully.
It was a sigh of ecstasy.
"You saw him?" Marie wanted to know.
"Of course not. I can never see any one. And I
tried so hard!"
"Madame, / saw him! From the wings. In a box. I saw him distinctly. I recognized him immediately. I tried to teil you, but it was not possible to make you hear in all that noise!"
Lina said slowly, raising her head: "You saw him? Are you sure? Unhook me."
"But I teil you I saw him! How could I make a mistake? He was alone in the box. It was the same Monsieur Guy. I recognized him immediately!"
The white feathers of the Snow Bird fluttered to the ground and she stood looking at her own lithe body, that gleamed in the mirror like polished ivory.
"Marie, I want to ask you something. Will you teil me the truth?"
"Did—is he—does he seem much altered? Is he very different?"