"Then we won't think of it," said the voice. "Only you must remember, there's money and there's—Peter to take you off and hide you somewhere. You can trust Peter." Again he seemed ready to break their companionship, and she wondered miserably.
"You seem to think of nothing but my going away."
"I must think of it. Nothing is more likely."
"You don't seem to care!"
"Playmate!" Again the voice reproached her.
"Well!"
"There's but one thing I think of—really. To give you a little bit of happiness while you are here. After that—well, you can make the picture for yourself. I shall come to the playhouse every night—alone."
The one thing perhaps that had been the strongest in guiding her romantic youth had been eternal faithfulness. Her heart beat at the word "forever." Now her gratitude outran his calm.
"Will you do it?" she cried.
"Shall I promise?"