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Updated: June 11, 2025
Even tired men and men who had seen too much knew anticipation to-night. Word had gone around that Crayford had brought the East to America. People were eager to take their places upon his magic carpet. The crowd in the lobbies increased. The corridors were thronged. Van Brinen passed by, walking slowly, and looking about him with his rather pathetic eyes.
Many people in the stalls were looking at him, were pointing him out. He seemed to ignore the attention fixed upon him. "There!" said Charmian, in a low voice. She pointed with her fan, then leaned back. Claude looked and saw Van Brinen not far off. He was standing up in the stalls, facing the boxes, bending a little and talking to two smartly dressed women. His pale face looked sad.
Presently he stood up straight and seemed to look across the intervening heads into Claude's eyes. "He must see me!" Claude thought. "He does see me!" Van Brinen stood thus for quite a minute. Then he made his way to one of the exits and disappeared. "He is coming round to the box, I'm sure," said Charmian cheerfully. "He evidently saw us." "Yes." But Van Brinen did not come.
Van Brinen," said Charmian. "Can you? Where is he?" Claude got up slowly, picked up the roses and the cablegram from the chair beside Charmian, put them behind him, and took the chair, bringing it forward quite to the front of the box. As he did so Charmian made a sound like a word half-uttered and checked. "Where is he?" Claude repeated.
He saw Jacob Crayford, smartly dressed, a white flower in his buttonhole, standing in a group of pressmen, went up to him and gently took him by the arm. "Hulloh, Van Brinen! Going to be kind to us to-night?" "I hope so. Your man is a man of value." "Heath? And if he weren't, d'you think I'd be spending my last dollar on him? But what do you know of his music more than the others?"
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