His momentum carried
him skimming across a flat meadow, and he slowed to a stand at the very
end of the main street where, in the white glare of an arc light he
removed his skis, and stepped onto the sidewalk.
Well, he would see her once more, arrayed in the coat of matched
sable--and he would carry the picture with him to far places where the
stars winked cold in the night sky.
Fully twenty minutes before time for the curtain Hedin was in his
place, tenth row on the middle aisle, eagerly scanning the patrons as
they were ushered to their seats. The theatre boasted only two boxes,
set just above the stage level, and Elsie Campbell had engaged them
both.
As time for the curtain to rise drew near, Hedin found himself
fidgeting nervously. Had the theatre party been called off? The house
was already well filled; surely there was no block of vacant seats that
would accommodate a dinner party. Then, as he had about given up hope,
he raised his eyes to a box just as Jean McNabb entered, followed
closely by Wentworth. Hedin stared as if petrified, brushed his hand
across his eyes as though to clear his vision of distorting film, and
stared again. For Wentworth was lifting a coat from Jean's shoulders,
but it was not a sable one. Seizing his hat and coat, Hedin rushed
from the building, narrowly avoiding collision with an usher.
Without pausing to put on his coat, he dashed for the store and letting
himself in, took the stairs three at a time.
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