“Something very astonishing has happened, Morena,—one of those ‘things not dreamt of in a man’s philosophy.’ I can’t tell you. Have you arranged for me to meet Jane West?”
“After the show, yes, at supper.”
“But not as the author?”
“No. I was waiting for you to tell her that.”
“She mustn’t know. And—and I can’t meet her that way, at supper.” Again he made visible efforts at self-control. “Don’t tell Betty what a fool I am. I’ll go out a minute. I’ll be all right.”
Betty was coming toward them. He gave a painful smile and fled.