He laughed approvingly.
“By George, that’s good! I must remember that. How do you feel?”
“Frightened out of my life!” said Doris. “Do not be surprised if I forget my part, and am hissed off!” but her smile belied her words.
“If you are I’ll close the theatre and take to—market gardening!” retorted the manager.
“Let her alone! I do not want her to talk!” growled Jeffrey, and Mr. Brown, shrugging his shoulders and making a grimace behind the bent back, glanced at his watch and hurried off, saying—
“Ten minutes, Miss Marlowe!”
“Ten minutes!” said Doris, dreamily. “Leave me now, Jeffrey, dear.”
He laid his hand on her shoulder and looked down at her with a world of wistful tenderness and pride and loving anxiety.
“Do your best, Doris!” he said.
“I will, for your sake, Jeffrey!” she responded, touching his hand caressingly.