“I understand,” said Quiltan.
VI
Wynne Rendall was not a little irritated at Quiltan’s failure to keep the appointment. He lunched alone at the club, and for want of better occupation strolled round to the theatre afterwards. He walked on to the stage at the very moment Miss Esme was beginning her scene, and, observing him, this young lady very promptly gave up all attempts to proceed, and said:
“I do wish you wouldn’t come to rehearsals—you frighten me most dreadfully.”
“Come along, Miss Waybury,” insisted the stage manager.
But Wynne held up his hand.
“Wait a bit. We’ll go over it together. Take the rest through, Henson, and read for Miss Waybury.”
He led the way to a comfortable office which had been set aside for his use, and nodded Esme toward one of the big leather chairs.
“Now then, what’s the matter with you?”
“You frighten me.”