"No," he said savagely, "it's that—Belinger. Been seeing you, hasn't he—talking of what he could do? Well, you know your own business best. That man will be waiting on my doorstep by and by, and he'll have to wait patiently. Think it over when you're tossing us both in the blanket. He's a back number; I'm a dozen editions."
Etta was seriously tempted to smile at this frightened earnestness and at the great man's idea of her shrewdness. She could not forget, however, that he had given her the opportunity she had so greatly longed for to put the dreams of her girlhood to the proof. And for that she would remain lastingly grateful.
"My dear Mr. Izard," she said, "I fear you don't understand me at all. Who Mr. Belinger may be I don't know; but he certainly has not made me any offers. And just as certainly should I refuse them if he did so. You have been generous enough to give me my chance. If I remain on the stage, it will be with you."
Izard opened his dull eyes very wide.
"If you remain upon the stage! Good God, you don't mean to say that you have any doubt of it?"
"I have every doubt."
"Have you read the papers?"
"Oh, but you told me not to pay any attention to them——"
"That's from the front of the house point of view. Don't you know that they say you are as great as Réjane?"
"I cannot possibly believe that."