“Tell him that Nellie isn’t seeing anybody to-night,” he whispered. “Do it quick. Get him out of here.”
“Shall I throw him out, sir?” demanded the man, with a wry face. “Poor little chap!”
“Just tell him that Nellie will see him for a few minutes after the play.” Then, as the man 62 moved away:—“They’ve got no business having husbands, Mr. Fairfax. Damned nuisances.”
Fairfax had his hand to his lips. He was thinking of Nellie’s “perfect devil.”
“I fancy he doesn’t cut much of a figure in her life,” said he, in a tone of relief.
In the meantime the stage hand had accosted Harvey, who had been joined by the anxious Mr. Butler.
“Miss Duluth ain’t seeing any one to-night, sir,” he said. “She gave strict orders. No one, sir.”
Harvey’s blue eyes were like delft saucers. “She’ll see me,” he said. “I’m her husband, you know.”
“I know that, sir. But the order goes, just the same.”
“Is she ill?”