“Well,” he said, “since I’m ruined, what’s to be done but make the best of things? There may be brighter days ahead, but right this minute things might be worse than they are. The fact is, I know of a job—it’s as leader of the orchestra in a theatre here in San Francisco. I—I believe it’s a movie theatre, but what of that? It wouldn’t last forever, and I’d keep my eyes open all the time for a chance to put over my great dream. In the meantime, though humble, the job would pay—well, enough for two to live on, I guess, if we didn’t sail too high. And at least it would be all in one place—the job, I mean—which is an advantage that couldn’t be claimed by the world tour, you see! Lord, it’s too beautiful to think of!”
And she was quite as excited and pleased as he. “Why, I’m sure we could manage, and it would really be the finest kind of adventure to have to skrimp and ‘figure,’ and I’ve a small ‘income,’ you know, from all those apartments in the East, so that if the ‘wolf’ ever actually threatened to break in, why we could sell some of the things, though of course I know,” she embroidered, “your job at the ‘movies’ couldn’t last forever, since new opportunities are sure to open up—we’ll make them!” For suddenly she remembered, and not without a quick little heartache, how he had poured out to her his big, ardent dreams that day at the Hoadley auction. “I’ll ‘back you up’ with all my might,” she said in her gracious, heartening way. “We’ll manage by ‘hook or crook’ to keep advancing, and in the meantime, we can stay right on here in this little place, which is so comfortable, though of course small, and to which I think I’ve grown more ‘attached’ than to any of the others—”
There was an interrupting ring. Her face fell.
“Oh—I’d forgotten! The people who are thinking of sub-letting....” She rose, a little upset.
But Curry kept his head—and afterward bragged of it, too. “Don’t even let ’em cross the doorstep!” he commanded, very firmly. “Tell ’em you’re out. Tell ’em you’ve changed your mind. Tell ’em anything at all, but don’t let them in!”
And when the intruders were safely disposed of, the big, joyous impresario, smiling as he certainly never smiled before in his whole life, made Flora tie one of her aprons around his waist; and he insisted on washing the dishes, while she dried them.
III
Three weeks later the Star of Troy slipped in. She never arrived with any fanfare—that was not her way.
It was agreed that Stella should go home alone, and, with such fortitude as she could summon, convey to her family the tragic aspect of this return. She preferred it that way. A cable had gone out to them from India; but nothing had been said about King, and she faced a task which brought its shudder. Better, almost better, she thought at times, to have them carry home her dead body, than to come back with things as they stood. But in her stronger moments she grimly welcomed the ordeal.