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"I am going on board myself at once," the captain proceeded, "but I must ask you to keep your boat waiting for half an hour more. You will be all the longer with your wife, you know. I thought of that, Crayford." "I am much obliged to you, Captain Helding.
It had gone well, unexpectedly well. Behind the scenes there were congratulations. Crayford was radiant. Mr. Mulworth wiped his brow fanatically, but looked almost human as he spoke in a hoarse remnant of voice to a master carpenter. Enid Mardon went off the stage with the massive dressmaker in almost amicable conversation.
"Funny I should have come without your telegraphing." "It almost seems " She paused. "What?" "As if you had been led to come back of your own accord, as if you had felt you ought to be here." "Are you glad?" he said. "Yes, now." "Did you mean " "Claude," she said, taking a resolution, "I don't think it would be wise for us to seem too eager about the opera with Mr. Crayford."
A good ax, Master Bateson I wonder where you got it? Something like a grip, my man, on this handle. Poor Crayford! his words stick in my throat. A fine fellow! a noble fellow! No use thinking, no use regretting; what is said, is said. Work! work! work!" Plank after plank fell out on the floor. He laughed over the easy task of destruction. "Aha! young Aldersley!
It seemed that he, the composer, knew little or nothing about his own work. The sense of form was leaving him. Once the work had seemed to him to have a definite shape; now, when he considered it, it seemed to have no shape at all. But Crayford and Charmian and Alston Lake declared that it was twice as strong, twice as remarkable, as it had been before Crayford took it in hand.
"Francis Thompson's The Hound of Heaven." Jacob Crayford what would he think of that sort of thing? "You know it, don't you?" Claude said, as she was silent. "I've read it, but quite a while ago. I don't remember it well. Of course I know it's very wonderful. Madre loves it." "She was speaking of it at the Shiffney's the other night. That's why it occurred to me to study it." "Oh.
"He's a genius in his own way!" Lake swore. Claude was tempted to reply: "No doubt. But he's not a genius in my way." But he refrained. What would be the use? And Charmian agreed with Alston. She and Crayford were the closest, the dearest of friends. He admired not only her appearance, which pleased her, but her capacities, which delighted her. "She's no rester!" he would say emphatically.
"Here!" said the big man in a big voice. The dark young man came from his office. On seeing the big man he started, and looked impressed. "Mr. Crayford here?" said the big man. "I think he's on the stage." "Could you be good enough to send him in my card? There's some writing on the back. And here's a note from this lady." "Certainly, with pleasure," said the young man, with his cheerful smile.
And now that the flash was gone she saw in them the soul of the business man. Claude was not a "business proposition." It was useless to speak of him yet. "I hope you'll find your composer," she said quietly, almost with a dainty indifference. Then someone came up and claimed Crayford with determination. "That's a pretty girl," he remarked. "Is she married? I didn't catch her name."
That's right. Oh, here is supper! Caviare first! I'll sit here. Oh, Alston, what a comfort to be quietly here with just you and Claude after all the excitement!" For a moment her mouth dropped, but only for a moment. "But I'm wonderfully little tired!" she continued. "It all went so splendidly, without a single hitch. Mr. Crayford must be enchanted.
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