His empty eyes came round to her.

“You’re going to stay on with me?”

“Of course I am.”

“Y’mean it?”

“Of course I do.” She looked to Brooks and held out her hand. “Good-by, John.”

He came over and took it and held it for a moment—tight.

“Good-by, Gloria. I’ll be leaving town next week, if ’Dolph’s willing to have an understudy take my place from to-night on. I’m not likely to see you again.”

Their eyes met and managed to smile. Then Gloria looked away. Something in her throat was fluttering like a wild thing.

[215]
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When she looked back the door had closed.

“You’re all right, honey,” Cleeburg murmured huskily.