"I'm in awful pain, Ted," pleaded Van. "Something I've eaten, I guess. I can hardly stand up straight."
"Oh, rats!" answered Perkins sympathetically, and tore out again.
Van took his coat and mandolin and disappeared. Between numbers he came in and slipped down the aisle to the Paysons' seats.
"Will you excuse me, Miss Payson? I can't go home with you after the concert. I'm awfully sorry, but I feel pretty sick and I'm going back to the hotel now."
"Oh, what is it?" Dolores asked, and her mother leaned forward with polite interest.
Van smiled weakly.
"Nothing serious, probably," he said. "Don't worry, please. I won't say good-bye," he added, taking Dolores' hand, "because if I have to stay over to-morrow I shall try to see you in the morning."
"Oh, I hope you'll be better, and I shall look for you."
Then Mason came out to sing, and Van left with a hurried good-night. The streets were full of Christmas shoppers. At the first drug store he bought some Jamaica ginger; then he went to the hotel and slid into bed, leaving the lights on.
After the concert Perkins did not go to the café with the rest; he, too, hastened back to the hotel.