No more perfect picture of physical beauty and passionate, romantic love could be imagined, and it was nightly received with admiring applause, beneath which his whisper came to her: "My beloved! my beloved!" And her eyes would sink and all her throat flush red, for she had lived a lover's life-time during that one storm-shaken kiss--and she understood! Others, too, there were who, though they heard no whispered word, saw the lowered lids and moving lips of Thrall, and, knowing him of old, guessed the rest. And Roberts groaned and Manice was so like a spitting cat that poor Jim said wearily one night: "Look out, Thrall! I know the wrong side of woman pretty well, and that bleached friend of yours is going to play you a trick before long--either you or--or--" He could not force himself to speak the name, but looked so piteously at the manager that Thrall nodded, answeringly: "All right, Jim! all right! She can try all the tricks she likes on me! The--the other person's safe enough--they don't come in contact, you know! Why, you're all to pieces, and imagine things!" "She's dangerous, I tell you!" persisted Jim. "She's a coward!" contemptuously replied Thrall. "Besides, if you must know, I've succeeded in shipping her. She's to be starred in a comedy next season. Jake Huntley takes her out." "Humph!" said Jim, "that must cost you something?" "Well, yes! But better pay your piper quietly when your dance is over, and not stop to count your pennies. I'm mighty lucky to get rid of a firebrand so peaceably." "You look out, Thrall!" repeated Jim, nervously. "Don't you see that's unnatural conduct for her? She is laying a trap for you--look out, I say!" "Oh, come out and take a nip of something. You want bracing--come on!" But in a fortnight's time Thrall saw Roberts's fears justified. Miss Manice, enraged by her "release"--theatrical synonym for "dismissal"--even when profiting most by the managerial generosity, was making secret use of that coward's weapon, the anonymous letter, and each foreign mail day was watched for eagerly, and Thrall's face studied covertly with treacherous feline eyes that sought there some reflex pain or fear from the wounds she was dealing to another--until at last she was rewarded.