Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. He was alarmed when she returned to the stage and her eyes passed over him in the audience. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. But days had now passed. "I've lost my wager. "Nothing!" echoed the other, scornfully. His glasses were gone.
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