“Wh-where?” Sheila quivered.
“Here. No—at the theater. No—yes, at the theater.”
“All right,” she mumbled. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
CHAPTER XXXVII
Sheila went to the theater with the joyous haste of a child going up to the teacher’s desk for punishment. She wondered how Reben could have learned of the marriage. She wished she had told him of it when it was celebrated. She felt that poor Reben had a just grievance against her. It would be only fair to let him scold his anger out, and bear his tirade in quiet resignation.
Bret thought that he might as well come along, since he had been unearthed. But Sheila would not permit him to enter the theater lest Reben and he fall to blows. She did not want Reben to be beaten up. She left Bret in the alley, and promised to call for him if she were attacked.
The theater was quite deserted at this hour. Sheila found Reben pacing the corridor before her dressing-room. She advanced toward him timidly with shame that he misinterpreted. He fairly lashed her with his glare and groaned in all contempt:
“My God, Sheila, I’d never have thought it of you!”
“Thought what?” Sheila gasped.
He laughed harshly: “And you called me down for insulting you! And you got away with it! But, say, you ought to use your brains if you’re going to play a game like that. Coarse work, Sheila; coarse work!”