Quilt was not long in following his example. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. She dressed rapidly and left the theatre without a word to any one. A paralyzing horror was upon her. Occasionally he relit his pipe. I guess. “No, not that I know of,” Michelle replied, her still eyes not meeting Lucy’s. It was common name, so I was thrown off the scent.
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