They were entering the theatre now and Ruth wanted to talk to Terry about Professor Pendragon when no one else was listening. Ben Stark was a jarring note that precluded absolute revealment of her hopes and fears. Nevertheless she forgot to be annoyed at his presence in the theatre for he amused her with his comments about people on and off the stage and Terry was strangely silent. The play was a particularly inane bit of fluff and seemed to be making a great hit. Ruth could imagine the trend of his thoughts, the discouragement attendant upon doing his best and seeing it fail, and watching the success of an inferior endeavour, yet she envied him, for he at least believed in his own work, and the more she studied and compared her work with that of other students, the more a creeping doubt of her own ability filled her brain.
“I need cheering up! Won’t you go to supper with me?” he asked as they passed out of the theatre.
His invitation was addressed to both Ben and Ruth, but Ben, with motives which Ruth understood only too well begged off.
“You know I have to report for rehearsals tomorrow morning, if you don’t mind I’ll run along.”
He evidently thought that Terry would like to be alone with Ruth, and Ruth, realizing his mistake, was yet too timid to protest, even had she not secretly desired to be alone with Terry. She had never gone to supper with a man alone. It would be an adventure, and the fact that she loved the man even though he did not know or care, made it even more thrilling. She bethought herself of her costume and wished that she were in evening clothes.
“I think I’d better take you some place near home,” said Terry. “If we use a cab we can save time, and there won’t be so many people downtown and we’ll be served quicker. I feel a bit guilty about keeping you out late.”
“I’m not a child,” said Ruth, pouting.
“I know you’re not, but you are—you’ll always be one, I hope.”
She was about to ask why, but they were entering a cab now and she did not ask. She wanted to ask where they were going, but she did not ask that either. She found herself with Terry afflicted with a strange inability to talk. They rode almost in silence to Fourteenth Street and entered a most disappointing place.
Ruth’s idea of supper after the theatre was a place of soft lights and music with beautifully dressed women and flowers, and sparkling wine. She didn’t want to drink the sparkling wine herself or even to wear the beautiful gowns, but she wanted to see them.