“Why, sir, that’s the lady who went away with the gentleman who spoke to me!”
“Who was he?” I demanded eagerly. “What did he say? What was he like?”
“Well, sir, it was like this,” replied the boy. “About a quarter of an hour before the curtain fell last night I was out in the vestibule, when a tall dark gentleman, with his hair slightly grey and no moustache, came up to me with a lady’s cloak in his hand—a dark blue one. He told me that when the audience came out a fair young lady would come up to me for the cloak, as she wanted to get away very quickly, and did not want to wait her turn at the cloak-room. There was a car—a big grey car—waiting for her outside.”
“Then her flight was all prepared!” I exclaimed. “What was the man like?”
“He struck me as being a gentleman, yet his clothes seemed shabby and ill-fitting. Indeed, he had a shabby-genteel look, as though he were a bit down on his luck.”
“He was in evening clothes?”
“No, sir. In a suit of brown tweeds.”
“Well, what happened then?”
“I waited till the curtain fell, and then I stood close to the box-office with the cloak over my arm. There was a big crush, as it was then raining hard. Suddenly a young lady wearing a cream theatre-wrap came up to me hastily, and asked me to help her on with the cloak. This I did, and next moment the man in tweeds joined her. I heard him say, ‘Come along, dear, we haven’t a moment to lose,’ and then they went out to the car. That’s all I know, sir.”
I was silent for a few moments. Who was this secret lover, I wondered? The lad’s statement had come as an amazing revelation to me.