"Then let me tell you what happened not half an hour ago in this very theatre. You see that scenery? It's all new. The dresses are new—new music, new decorations, a new theatre, and—d——n it all!—it's enough to make a man mad!"
"But what is it?" asked the Count of the abnormally excited manager.
"A few minutes ago Miss Brunel comes to me and says, 'Mr. Melton, a word with you.'
"'Certainly,' said I.
"Then she turned a little pale; and had that curious look in her eyes that she used to wear on the stage, you know; and said, clearly, 'I am not going to act any more.'
"When I had recovered breath, I said:
"'Pardon me, Miss Brunel; you must. Look at the expense I have been put to in getting up this revival——'
"And then she grew excited, as if she were half-mad, and implored me not to compel her to fulfil her engagement. She said her acting was a failure; that everybody knew it was a failure; that she had an invincible repugnance to going on the stage again; and that nothing would tempt her to begin a new piece, either with me or with anybody else. I can assure you, Count Schönstein, now that I think over it, there never was a finer scene in any play than she acted then—with her despair, and her appeals, and her determination. I thought at first she was bewitched; and then I declare she was so nearly on the point of bewitching me, that I was almost agreeing to everything she asked, only——"
"Only what?"
"Only I remembered that the theatre was not only my own affair, and that I had no business to compromise its interests by—you understand?"