"Impossible."
"Very well, then. But I thank you for the honor you have done me in asking me to fill the place."
Thayer rose with an air of decision, and the impresario could do nothing else than follow his example. At the door, he turned back.
"Mr. Thayer, there is no use in my trying to conceal the fact that I want you badly. If I will wait until a week from to-night, will you give me your answer then?"
"I will," Thayer replied imperturbably.
"And sign the contracts on the spot?"
"I will," Thayer repeated; "but remember this: in the meantime, I am binding myself to nothing. Good-night."
He went down the stairs with the impresario. When he returned to Arlt's room, a moment later, he took up the conversation at the precise point where they had dropped it; but, even in the dusky room, Arlt could see that Thayer's eyes were blazing as he had never seen them till then. Not long afterwards, Thayer glanced down at his own strong, slim hand that rested on the table beside him. The fingers were moving restlessly and, on the back, the cords twitched a little now and then. Thayer watched it curiously for a moment. Then he clasped his hands on his knee and held them there, motionless.