“How could I hit him when you held his hands? How could I hit him when his wife was clinging to him? And what’s a blow? I’ve had worse ones than that in knock-down and drag-out fights. I’ll get a lot more later, no doubt. But I couldn’t hit Winfield. He doesn’t understand. Sheila has trouble enough ahead of her with him. Poor Sheila! She’s the one that will pay. The rest of us will get other jobs. But Sheila is done for.”
By now the scenery was all folded and stacked against the walls. The drops were lost in the flies. The furniture and properties were withdrawn. The bare walls of the naked stage were visible.
The electrician was at the switchboard, throwing off the house lights in order. They went out like great eyes closing. The theater grew darker and more forlorn. The stage itself yielded to the night. The footlights and borders blinked and were gone. There was no light save a little glow upon a standard set in the center of the apron.
Eldon sighed and went to his dressing-room.
CHAPTER XLI
Meanwhile Sheila was immured with her husband. She sent Pennock away and locked the door, pressed Bret into a chair, and knelt against his knee and stretched her arms up.
“What is it, honey? What’s happened? I didn’t know you were within a thousand miles of here.”
He was still ugly enough to growl, “Evidently not!”
She seemed to understand and recoiled from him, sank back on her heels as if his fist had struck her down. “What do you mean?” she whispered. “That I—I—You can’t mean you distrust me?”
“That dog loves you and you—”