She looked like a pitiful little wraith, and his heart ached for her.
“I’m sorry I had to add to your hard day, but I had to say this to-night.”
“It’s all right. I must ask you not to speak to me of it again until after to-morrow night. I need all my strength for that ordeal. After that, we must turn our attention to this new problem, and work it out together, somehow.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry I’ve been such a disappointment to you, my dear,” he added.
“Good-night. Take the letters—I could not bear to read them.”
With an agonized look he took them and left her.
“Dear lord, I’m through with plots! I’m sick unto death of the secret,” she sighed, as she climbed into bed.
Bambi kept to her room next day until it was time to meet the train on which Ardelia and the Professor were to arrive. It was due at four o’clock. She went to Jarvis’s door, but he was not in his room. She had heard nothing of him since his confession of the night before.
Her telephone bell startled her, and she took up the receiver to hear Jarvis’s voice.
“How are you?”
“Don’t you want me to meet the Professor and Ardelia? There’s no need of your going up to Grand Central.”
“I’d rather go thank you, Jarvis. Where are you?”
“At the theatre.”
“Anything the matter?”
“Oh, no. I came to talk to the stage manager. He says everything will be all right to-night. Are you resting?”
“Yes. I’ve had a quiet day, sitting on my nervous system. Where have you been?”
“Walking the streets.”
“Come home and take some rest. I’ll meet the train. Thank you just as much for thinking of it.”
“I’ll be at the information booth at five minutes to four.”
She hung up the phone with a dazed face. The idea of Jarvis taking care of her, inquiring after her health, and trying to spare her!
“Every blessed thing is topsy-turvy,” she exclaimed aloud.
At four o’clock she walked up to the booth, and there he stood, anxiously scanning the faces that passed.
“Hello!” she said cheerfully.
He looked grateful and smiled.
“You look as if you had had a spell of sickness, you’re so white,” he said.
“I’m all right, but you look like a nervous pros. case. Aren’t we pitiful objects for eminently successful playwrights?”
“I suppose one gets used to this strain in time,” he said, taking her arm to help her through the crowd.
No sooner had the train come to a stop than they saw Ardelia’s huge frame descend from the car, holding a dress suitcase in each hand. After her came the Professor, looking very small and shrunken. Ardelia saw them afar, and waved the heavy suitcase in the air like a banner as she hurried toward them.