His feet fell more
blithely upon the pavement, he carried himself with a different air.
Here were ample means to fill his life,--means by which he could crush
out that sweet but unhappy tangle of memories which somehow or other had
stolen the flavour out of life for the last few weeks.
At the hotel he glanced at the clock. It was just eight, and he was to
accompany the Bullsoms to the theatre. He met them in the hall, and
Selina looked with reproach at his morning clothes. She was wearing a
new swansdown theatre cloak, with a collar which she had turned up round
her face like a frame. She was convinced that she had never looked so
well in her life.
"Mr. Brooks, how naughty of you," she exclaimed, shaking her head in
mock reproach. "Why, the play begins at 8:15, and it is eight o'clock
already. Have you had dinner?"
"Oh, I can manage with something in my room while I change," he answered
cheerily. "I'm going to take you all out to supper after the theatre,
you know. Don't wait for me--I'll come on. His Majesty's, isn't it?"
"I'll keep your seat," Selina promised him, lowering her voice.
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