“You must let me take you home at once,” he exclaimed under the general uproar.
Without a protest she followed him out into the aisle, “Yes,” she whispered, “I didn’t think that I would disgrace myself like this. I suppose I ought to have taken your advice and not come. But oh, I wanted to so much. I was so afraid for him, you know. I had a silly feeling that my love might help him, even if he didn’t care or know that I was there!” She sobbed beneath her breath. “But I see he didn’t need me after all,” she added, as they fought their way out into the lobby.
Anne’s impressions of the intermission were hazy. Barely conscious of the inroad of visitors upon her box, she answered their sallies with the mechanical ease of long habit. To Ellen’s repeated pleas that she should come down to MacDougal Alley and play poker after the concert, she was amiably curt. She had a headache. Ellen knew she detested cards. If Ellen suspected a reason for Anne’s refusal, she gave no hint. But her eyes rested upon the emerald pendant maliciously. She is going to meet him afterwards, she mused.
The last half of the program met with as vociferous an approval. The Préludium and Allegro of Pugnani, a serenade by Kreisler, some of Brahm’s Hungarian Dances were played as only a few can play them. A sonata of Schumann breathed exquisite tears.
After the concert was over, there was a clamor for encores. Pale, but exultant, Alexis was generous, and gave of his best. Laughing, dancing tunes, that sent everybody home happy.
As the last notes of a Wienawski waltz died away, he left the stage for the last time and the audience rose en masse and made for the exit. A chattering, excited throng, Anne regarded it through grateful tears.
“Well, shall we go? Or do you intend to spend all night in the sanctuary?” Gerald held out Anne’s chinchilla cape with a mocking glance. “Did the little tin god perform satisfactorily, or was she disappointed?”
She slipped into her cape with a nonchalant air.
“The little tin god is solid gold all the way through, I’m inclined to believe. But as he has descended from the altar, we might as well move along.”
“If you are not coming to MacDougal Alley, may I not see you home, Madame?” Caldenas bowed like a dignified cherub.