"Miss Hersey?" supplied De Freyne. "You might also ask her to come in here in ten minutes, will you?"
"My car's outside," said Woolf. "You'll find me at the stage-door."
Maggy ran along to the dressing room where she had left Alexandra. The other girls had gone.
"Lexie, I'm going out to lunch," she began breathlessly. "I wish you were coming too. Do you mind? I shan't be long. I'll cut home as quickly as I can."
She could not hide her excitement. It showed in an added sparkle of the eyes, a catch in the voice. Alexandra wondered what else besides an invitation to lunch could have created this effect. It caused her vague uneasiness. But prospective enjoyment was so clearly written all over Maggy's face that she refrained from expressing it.
"Of course I don't mind," she said. "I hope you will enjoy yourself."
"You are a dear!" Maggy felt awkward. "You—you don't think it's wrong?"
"There's nothing wrong in going to lunch with anybody. Especially if he's—all right, and knows you are, too."
"He's nice, I think."
"I'm glad. But be careful, Maggy."