On the third evening, as I was entering the theatre, I encountered a poor creature standing by the stage door. I went to him; I almost fell upon his breast in my agitation.
“Gogo!” I said, “Gogo!” and stood dumb and shame-stricken before him.
He threw up his hands with that odd familiar gesture, with that tempestuous sigh which found such an immediate response in my soul.
“Are you not coming in?” I faltered.
He shook his head.
“You are dismissed?”
“I spoiled their dragon for them.”
I burst into tears.
“It was for me, dear. Do you see to what I have come? Forgive me, Gogo.”
“I can’t help myself,” he groaned. “You are my destiny.”