The Jew stuffed the pearls in his pocket and went by Dan hurriedly, as though he feared the young man intended to help him. But Dan stopped him:
“Before this deal goes through I want you to tell me why you are—”
Miss Lane broke in: “My gracious Heavens! Can’t I even sell my jewels without being bossed? What business is it of yours, Mr. Blair? Let this man go, and go all of you—all of you. Higgins, send them out.”
The blind man and the child stirred, too, at this outburst. The little girl wore a miserable hat, a wreck of a hat, in which shook a feather like a broken mast. The rest of her garments seemed made of the elements—of dirt and mud—mere flags of distress, and the odor of the poor filled the room: over the perfume and scent and smell of stage properties, this miserable smell held its own.
“Come, Daddy,” whispered the child timidly, “come along.”
“Oh, no, not you, not you,” Letty Lane said.
Job Cohen crawled out with ten thousand pounds’ worth of pearls in his pockets, and as soon as the door had closed the actress took up the roll of notes.
“Come here,” she said to the child. “Now you can take your father to the home I told you of. It is nice and comfortable—they will treat his eyes there.”
“Miss Lane—Miss Lane!” called the page boy.
“Never mind that,” said the actress, “it is a long wait this act. I don’t go on yet.”
Higgins went to the door and opened it and stood a moment, then disappeared into the side scenes.
Letty Lane ruffled the pile of banknotes and without looking drew out two or three bills, putting them into the child’s hands. “Don’t you lose them; stuff them down; this will keep you and your father for a couple of years. Take care of it. You are quite rich now. Don’t get robbed.”
The child tremblingly folded the notes and hid them among her rags. The tears of happiness were straggling over her face. She said finally, finding no place to stow away her riches, “I expect I’d best put them in daddy’s pocket.”
And Dan came to her aid; taking the notes from her, he folded and put them inside the clothes of the old beggar.
“Miss Lane,” said Higgins, who had come in, “it is time you went on.”
“I’ll see your friends out of the theater,” Blair offered. And as he did so, for the first time she looked at him, and he saw the fever in her brilliant eyes.