"I don't know, but I'm going back home to my child. Good-night."
Yes, the music had stopped suddenly. The man in the farthest alcove turned to his companion. They were hidden by a group of palms.
"I wonder why?" queried the woman. She was deathly pale. Her eyes were dark with fear, yet alight with passionate determination.
"When it begins," said the man tenderly, "we will slip away. My car is outside. Everything is ready."
"That is my husband over there," said the woman.
"Yes," said the man, "he won't trouble you any more."
"That woman with him is leaving him," she said. "I wonder why." She turned suddenly with a great start. "There is somebody here," she whispered, staring into the back of the alcove.
"Nonsense," said the man, throwing a glance around the recess. "There's nobody here but you and I. We are alone together, as we shall be hereafter, when we have taken the step."
"But that child," whispered the woman, "with his strange vesture and his wonderful face. His eyes look at me so."