"You come early," she said.
"I could not wait," Sydney answered. "I was too impatient. You have not spoken with—with——"
"Our husband!" said the actress, filling up the embarrassed pause with a faint and mirthless laugh. "No, Sydney, I have not spoken with him. I saw him on the pavement this morning when I left the theater, but I drew down my veil and looked another way."
The look of dread in Sydney's dark eyes softened into relief.
"Oh, Queenie," she exclaimed, "if you only would go away from here without speaking to him! Think of the consequences that would follow such a revelation—the nine days' wonder over you, the shame, the despair, the utter desolation for me! Oh, Queenie, if you would but go away with your secret untold, and leave my husband."
Queenie's red lips curled scornfully.
"Ah! Sydney," she said, "you were always selfish. You think only of yourself. You would sacrifice my happiness to your own."
"Your happiness, Queenie? Ah! what happiness could it give you to be re-united to Lawrence Ernscliffe? You never professed to love him!"
A crimson blush rose into Queenie's cheek. She put up her small hand to hide it; but when it fell to her side again the warm color had not faded. It seemed but to burn the brighter as she said in a low and earnest voice: