“Dumb!” she muttered. Then, “Oh, my glory! Water! I wonder how deep!”
CHAPTER XXXII
A TOP-STAGE SEAT
But what of Petite Jeanne? Had she, arriving at the door, missed her companion and gone back into the building? Or, over-anxious for Florence’s safety, had she, too, gone into the street and been trapped? She had done neither. Yet adventure of quite another sort had come leaping at her.
Fascinated, as always, by the thought of that great opera stage at the end of the hall, and feeling that she had a few moments to spare, she had gone tiptoeing down the hall. She had found the door open and was preparing to look in upon the stage when a sidewise and backward glance gave her a severe shock. Standing not three paces behind her was a man. With arms stretched, he was approaching silently as one does who hopes to catch some creature off guard.
Striving in vain to still the beating of her heart, for she had recognized in this man the enemy she had made during the “battle of Maxwell Street,” Jeanne took one step out upon the opera stage. Then, realizing at a glance what was going on there, she played a bold hand. Turning half about, she hissed: “Dare to come one step nearer and I shall scream. Do you hear? The opera is in progress. The company is on the stage. I shall scream. And then—”
She did not finish. There was no need.
A performance of Grand Opera was truly in progress at that very instant. Through a thin wall of trees and shrubs painted on canvas, came a peculiar light, a transparent blue that suggested birds, flowers and springtime.
Even as the girl’s lips closed there came a burst of song from the front of the stage where, hidden by the partition, there were many singers.
Licking his lips like a tiger prepared to spring the man crouched, then moved a step forward.
“I’ll scream!” Petite Jeanne spoke aloud.