"Why, Mr. Wayne!" she said, and Jim could not pass without speaking.
"Good-afternoon," he said.
"A very beautiful afternoon," she responded, so that however reluctant, he had to delay. And now is seen the beginning of the afternoon's development, for when she next spoke she had no thought beyond what was expressed by her words. "An afternoon for a walk, Mr. Wayne." She had the very faintest hope that he might offer to walk with her.
"An afternoon for the theater," answered Jim bitterly, as he remembered the delights he had lost. Mrs. Harmon's disappointment was far greater than her expectations.
"Are you going?" she asked him. "What, you have been, Mr. Wayne? But how are you out so early?"
"Some people," answered Jim, "don't care for the theater."
Mrs. Harmon, recalling what she had just seen, did some swift guessing. "My husband, for instance," she said lightly.
"And Miss Blanchard," added Jim gloomily.
She thought she guessed why Jim would not walk with her. "You are going back to see the rest of the performance alone?"
But the idea came to him as new. He took from his pocket two slips of blue cardboard and regarded them resentfully. "I could go back," he said. "The man gave me these at the door. I've half a mind to."