“Yes.”
“We’ve had the best of life together.”
“Yes.”
“Nobody can take that from me.” He spoke breathlessly.
Suddenly his arm went round her, crushed her to him and his lips were against hers. “My love!” he whispered.
Jane Goring’s body went rigid. She drew herself erect and the warmth died out of her eyes as swiftly as a flame extinguished. Sharply her slim white hands thrust out [81] ]in defense. She pulled backward. Their gaze met—locked. In his was hurt question. In hers a flash of fury. He sat staring at her a moment and he did not look up. It was a look direct, straight, boring to the heart of her.
And then he got to his feet. “I beg your pardon,” he began. “I—I thought—” He paused, jaws coming together as though clamped. Without another look at her he walked the length of the room.
At the door he turned. “Damn me for my humility!” he said.
[82]
]CHAPTER II
Exceeding the most exalted expectations, “Peacock” ran two full seasons. It might even have packed houses during the hot spell, save that the star decided to give herself a rest, well-earned, and, of course without her, the theater had to remain dark. At the end of four weeks spent at a fashionable Adirondack hotel where she was fêted like visiting royalty and her gowns created a sensation, she reopened and the continued success of the play warranted Cleeburg’s decision to give it another season on Broadway.