She held out her hand, firmly. Dillon turned away.
“All right,” she said, and shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll know I was a real pal one day.”
She leant lightly upon O’Hagan’s arm; and the two left the room. She smiled bravely as they passed the stage door-keeper and bade him cheerily good-night.
(“Gad, Raymond!” says O’Hagan, “that girl was a brick; for she was every bit as much in love with Dillon as Dillon was in love with his wife!”)
—————
IV.
THE SNOWS OF THE YUKON.
O’Hagan, with some research, recently established the fact, in the case of Betty Chatterton, that “there was good blood on the mother’s side.” I fancy he slept better after that. As a child of the people (I use my friend’s phraseology) Miss Chatterton was a disturbing element in the Captain’s philosophy.
He turned to the dressing-room. Let us accompany him.
On the landing stood the maid.
“Please, sir,” said she, timidly, “may I go in and finish packing the basket?”