After the performance he waited in front of the theatre until the lights were extinguished and the big doors slammed in his face. Well it was for the public peace that his education did not include a knowledge of the stage door, for had he gone round the corner to that entrance not only would he have encountered Juno, but he would have witnessed the infuriating afterpiece of Bertino taking her arm and carrying her off toward the East side. It is not unlikely that one steel blade at least would have gleamed in the half light of that by-street. But his innocence as to the right door at which to await a lady of the ballet caused a postponement of the tragedy. When at last he sought the advice of a cabman and was directed to the proper place it was too late.
“Satana porco!” he growled as he started homeward. “I am a grand donkey. This is Saturday. To-morrow is festa. Two whole days must I go without seeing her. But on Monday night we shall meet, and then she shall be my promised wife.”
At the same time Juno was telling Bertino of her determination to go with the “Zapeaca” company in a tour of the country. They talked as they moved along on foot toward the Third Avenue Elevated. “It is only ten dollars a week,” she said, “with all expenses save the railroad to pay; but what would you have? Is it not better than living here the way you support me? Perhaps you think I will spend my money. Not even in a dream! A woman expects her husband to support her. To-morrow night, then, I go.”
“How long shall you be absent?” asked Bertino humbly.
“Goldoni says six months anyway; perhaps longer.”
“You will come back to me?”
“Yes”—and after a pause—“when you can support me like a signora.”
“In six months!” said Bertino exultantly. “Ha! then I shall be my own padrone. Then you shall see what a man your husband is.”
“Why?”
“Armando’s bust will be here. Don’t you remember? The bust that shall bring us both fortune. Patience, patience, my precious. Mark what I say: With the grand marble of the First Lady of the Land once in my hands I shall quickly put my uncle in a sack. In his face I will snap my fingers and say, ‘I beg to inform you, signore, that Juno is my wife.’”