“‘And you? What would you do?’ I demanded. ‘And your child?’
“At this her eyes filled and she could not answer. ‘And now, Madam,’ I said firmly, ‘I refuse once and for all to permit you to break your contract. Pooh! The tide will change. Men and women are sometimes fools; but they are not fools all the time. The dancer will have had her day. She will twirl her toes to the empty seats and throw her kisses into unresponsive space. Our patrons will gradually return; 259 they will grow tired of wriggling and twisting, and look again for a more substantial diet.’
“Matters did, indeed, begin to mend somewhat, when to bring the whole fabric tumbling down on our heads, this incomparable woman fell ill.
“‘You see? I have ruined you,’ she said sadly.
“‘I am honored, Madam,’ was all I could reply.
“She placed her hand softly on mine and let her luminous eyes rest on me.
“‘Dear old friend!’ she murmured.
“Then she closed her eyes and I thought she was sleeping. Some time elapsed when she again opened them.
“‘Death will break our contract, Mr. Barnes,’ she said softly.
“I suppose my hand trembled, for she tightened her grasp and continued firmly: ‘It is not so terrible, after all, or would not be, but for one thing.’