"May I come out and play with you, now that you are caught up and I can be your—anything?"
"You may."
Laughter.
With the stopping of the cab such a javelin of nervousness shot through
Lilly that it was as if it had pierced her heart.
A lovely pallor was out over Zoe, enlarging the dark pools of her eyes.
"Sit out in the house, center aisle, and look at me, dears—so I can feel you there—"
To the magic of a bit of cardboard Lilly and Bruce were in the vast fantastic hinterland of the Opera House, and, stumbling through various degrees of blackness, were presently down in the colossal maw of the auditorium, finding out seats in the great pit of darkness.
They sat in silence, except that for Lilly the beating of her heart seemed to record like a clapper against her brain.
"Don't be nervous," he said once.
"I'm not," she lied.