“You’ve seen me every night in the first row at the theater, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I’ve seen you.”
“And I think it’s a punk show,” his teeth flashed in a quick grin. “So now you know why I came.”
She looked at him from under weighty lids. As if he had to tell her!
“One lone show girl can’t be worth a speculator’s ticket four times,” she prompted.
“She’s worth lots more than that. Thank you for coming to-night.”
[139]
] His voice turned serious. He tucked the robe into her corner of the seat for no other reason than the magnet of bending over her, of breathing the faint fragrance that wafted from her like an aura. It was the ghost of grease-paint and flowers, of powder and perfume—that strange, exotic pot-pourri of the theater that clings to its women like essence of old Egypt.
She gazed down at the bent head, at the hands that brushed hers with a boyish lingering as they drew the robe closer. How young he seemed! She felt for the moment much as a man of the world feels when within the scope of his worldliness there appears a radiant young girl. There was the same thrill of interest, the same desire to be the one privileged to open up avenues of possibilities. A man on Broadway who had something to learn! It was like finding a canary in a cage of monkeys!
The strange exuberance was with her as they made their way among crowded tables to the one he had reserved. Amber satin clung to her supple body and long jet earrings almost touched her shoulders. She was conscious that in the attention she drew, she was giving him the sense of pride every man feels when the clatter of forks stops momentarily in tribute to the woman with him. But more than that, she had a sudden personal satisfaction in his pride and a curve softer than any her lips had known for years lifted their corners.
His tanned skin and eyes that glowed seemed lifted straight to the sun rising above the mountains. She took a deep breath, as if from him she could get the [140] ]stimulus of all outdoors. He looked at the slope of her white shoulders, at the droop of her shadowed eyes, as if in her were epitomized the lure of the city.