sheila went to the theater with the joyous haste of a child going up to the teacher’s desk for punishment. she wondered how reben could have learned of the marriage.

she wished she had told him of it when it was celebrated. she felt that poor reben had a just grievance against her. it would be only fair to let him scold his anger

out, and bear his tirade in quiet resignation.

bret thought that he might as well come along, since he had been unearthed. but sheila would not permit him to enter the theater lest reben and he fall to blows. she

did not want reben to be beaten up. she left bret in the alley, and promised to call for him if she were attacked.

the theater was quite deserted at this hour. sheila found reben pacing the corridor before her dressing-room. she advanced toward him timidly with shame that he

misinterpreted. he fairly lashed her with his glare and groaned in all contempt:

“my god, sheila, i’d never have thought it of you!”

“thought what?” sheila gasped.

he laughed harshly: “and you called me down for insulting you! and you got away with it! but, say, you ought to use your brains if you’re going to play a game like

that. coarse work, sheila; coarse work!”

sheila bit her lip to keep back the resentment boiling up in her heart.

he went on with his denunciation: “i warned you that you would be known everywhere you went. i told you your picture was all over town. and now your name is. a

stranger comes up to me and says he saw you and your—your ‘husband,’ mr. winfield? who’s the man? what’s his real name?”

“mr. winfield, of course.”

“oh, of course! where did you meet him? does he live here?”

“live here! indeed, he doesn’t!”

“he followed you here, then?”

“he preceded me here.”

“it’s as bad as that, eh? well, you leave him here, at once. if he comes near you again i’ll break every bone in his body.”

sheila laughed. “you haven’t seen my husband, have you?”

“your husband?” reben laughed. “are you going to try to bluff it out with me, too?”

sheila blenched at this. “he is my husband!” she stormed. “and you’d better not let him hear you talk so to me.”

reben’s knees softened under him. “sheila! you don’t mean that you’ve gone and got yourself married!”

“what else should i mean? how dare you think anything else?”

“oh, you fool! you fool! you little damned fool!”

“thanks!”

“you little sneaking traitor. didn’t you promise me, on your word of honor—”

“i promised to carry out my contract. and here i am.”

“i ought to break that contract myself.”

“you couldn’t please me better.”

he stood over her and glowered while his fingers twitched. she stared back at him pugnaciously. then he mourned over her. she was both his lost love and his lost ward.

his regret broke out in a groan:

“why did you do this, sheila? why, why—in god’s name, why?”

sheila had no answer. he might as well have shouted at her: “why does the earth roll toward the east? why does gravity haul the worlds together and keep them apart?

why are flowers? or june? what’s the reason for june?”

sheila knew why no more than the rose knows why.

at length reben’s business instinct came to the rescue of his heartbreak. he thought of his investment, of his contracts, of his hoped-for profits. his experience as

a manager had taught him to be another job. he ignored her challenge, and groaned, “how are we going to keep this crime a secret?”

sheila, seeing that he had surrendered, forgot her anger. “have we got to?”

“of course we have. you know it won’t help you any to be known as a married woman. o lord! what fools these mortals be! we’ve got to keep it dark at least till the

play gets over in new york. if it’s a hit it won’t matter so much; if it’s a flivver, it will matter still less.”

he was heartsick at her folly and her double-dealing. such things and worse had happened to him and to other managers. they force managers to be cynical and to drive

hard bargains while they can. like captains of ships, they are always at the ultimate mercy of any member of the crew. but they must make voyages somehow.

feeling the uselessness of wasting reproaches, reben left sheila and groped through the dark house to the lobby. there he found a most interesting spectacle—a line at

the box-office. it was a convincing argument. sheila had draught. even with a poor play in an unready condition, she drew the people to the box-office. he must make

the most of her treason.

but his heart was sick. he was managing a married star. this was double trouble with half the fun.