Hart turned away his face. “She’s found me out,” he thought.
“Nell, I never loved the Spanish dancing-girl. You know I love but you.”
“Oh, ho!” laughed Nell. “Then why did you tell her so?–to break her heart or mine?”
The manager stood confused. He scarce knew what to say.
“You are cruel, Nell,” he pleaded, fretfully. “You never loved me, never.”
“Did I ever say I did?”
Hart shook his head sadly.
“Come, don’t pout, Jack. An armistice in this, my friend, for you were my friend in the old days when I needed one, and I love you for that.” She placed her hands kindly on the manager’s shoulders, then turned and began to arrange anew the gift-flowers in the vase.
“I’ll win your life’s love, Nell, in spite of you,” he said, determinedly.
She turned her honest eyes upon him. “Nay, do not try; believe me, do not try,” she said softly.