The land baron meanwhile crossed to the semi-darkness at the rear of the stage behind the boxed scene, where he had observed the young girl waiting for the curtain to rise on the last act. A single light on each side served partly to relieve the gloom; to indicate the frame-work of the set scene and throw in shadow various articles designed for use in the play. As she approached Mauville, who stood motionless in an unlighted spot, the pale glow played upon her a moment, white on her neck, in sheen on the folds of her gown, and then she stepped into the shadow, where she was met by a tall figure, with hand eagerly outstretched.
“Mr. Mauville!” she exclaimed, drawing back at the suddenness of the encounter.
His restless eyes held hers, but his greeting was conventional.
“Did I not say the world was small and that we might meet again?”
“Of course, we are always meeting people and parting from them,” she replied unconcernedly.
He laughed. “With what delightful indifference you say that! You did not think to see me again?”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” she answered, frankly, annoyed by his persistence.
“I am unfortunate!” he said.
Beneath his free gaze she changed color, as though the shadow of a rose had touched her face.