Rita nodded, and a tear glistened upon her darkened lashes.
Sir Lucien cleared his throat again, then coolly extended his hand, once more master of his emotions.
“Congratulations, Rita,” he said. “The better man wins. I hope you will be very happy.”
He turned and walked quietly out of the dressing-room.
CHAPTER XVI.
LIMEHOUSE
It was on the following Tuesday evening that Mrs. Sin came to the theatre, accompanied by Mollie Gretna. Rita instructed that she should be shown up to the dressing-room. The personality of this singular woman interested her keenly. Mrs. Sin was well known in certain Bohemian quarters, but was always spoken of as one speaks of a pet vice. Not to know Mrs. Sin was to be outside the magic circle which embraced the exclusively smart people who practiced the latest absurdities.
The so-called artistic temperament is compounded of great strength and great weakness; its virtues are whiter than those of ordinary people and its vices blacker. For such a personality Mrs. Sin embodied the idea of secret pleasure. Her bold good looks repelled Rita, but the knowledge in her dark eyes was alluring.
“I arrange for you for Saturday night,” she said. “Cy Kilfane is coming with Mollie, and you bring—”
“Oh,” replied Rita hesitatingly, “I am sorry you have gone to so much trouble.”
“No trouble, my dear,” Mrs. Sin assured her. “Just a little matter of business, and you can pay the bill when it suits you.”