She hesitated. Perhaps it was that that Stella liked. Almost any one else would have been overeager to accept. But to Constance, sure of herself now, nothing of the sort was worth scrambling for. Besides, she was wondering how a man with the fight of his life on his hands could find time to lunch downtown even with Stella.
"I've taken quite a fancy to you," pressed Stella.
"Thank you, it's very kind of you," Constance answered. "I shall try very hard to be there."
"I'll leave a box for you at the office. Come around after the performance to my dressing room."
"Miss Larue, your taxi's waiting," announced Floretta.
"Thanks. Are you going now, Mrs. Dunlap? Yes? Then ride down in the elevator with me."
They parted at the foot of the elevator and Constance walked through the arcade of the office building in which the beauty parlor occupied the top floor. She stopped at a florist's stand to admire the flowers, but more for an excuse to look back at Stella.
As Stella stepped into a taxicab, showing a generous wealth of silken hosiery beneath the tango gown, Constance was aware that the driver of another cab across the street was also interested. She noticed that he turned and spoke to his fare through the open window.
The cab swung around to follow the other and Constance caught a fleeting glimpse of a familiar face.
"Drummond," she exclaimed almost aloud.