Conolly nodded, but went forward like one well accustomed to the dingy labyrinth of old-fashioned stages. Presently they came upon Lalage. She was much heated by her exertions, thickly painted, and very angry.
“Well?” she said quarrelsomely.
Marmaduke, perceiving that her challenge was not addressed to him, but to Conolly, looked from one to the other, mystified.
“I have come to see you act at last,” said Conolly.
“You might have told me you were coming. I could have got you a stall, although I suppose you would have preferred to throw away your money like a fool.”
“I must admit, my dear,” said Conolly, “that I could have spent it to much greater advantage.”
“Indeed! and you!” she said, turning to Lind, whose deepening color betrayed his growing mortification: “what is the matter with you?”
“I have played a trick on your friend,” said Conolly. “He suggested this visit; and I did not tell him of the relation between us. Finding us on terms of familiarity, if not of affection, he is naturally surprised.”
“As I have never tried to meddle with your private affairs,” said Marmaduke to Lalage, “I need not apologize for not knowing your husband. But I regret——”
The actress laughed in spite of her vexation. “Why, you silly old thing!” she exclaimed, “he is no more my husband than you are!”