To say that this young man gave every physiognomical indication of being a soul in distress would be putting it not a bit too strongly. Nor would it have required exceptionally brilliant intuitive faculties to conjecture that someone--presumably in a box across the theatre, on which, all through the evening, his eyes had been riveted--had shamelessly robbed him of his heart. Moreover, judging from his evident haste and the keen anxiety with which all the way up the aisle he followed every movement of the parties in the box, it would seem that he had determined to intercept them on their way out. And, indeed, such was his determination. Life had concentrated itself into a question of hearing from the lips of the woman,--the woman to whom he had offered, and who had refused, the worship of a life,--a word that he could interpret as meaning that there was still a faint possibility of her changing her mind. To his vexation, however, he found that others likewise had left their seats. In fact, the general exodus had already set in before, even, he had reached the top of the aisle. And yet, despite his being thoroughly aware that any attempt to pass from one side of the house to the other was sure to be resented,--so delirious is the haste in which a metropolitan audience takes leave of the theatre for the invariable restaurant-supper after the play,--he continued to make strenuous efforts to cut his way through, until realising, finally, that it was useless, he let himself be borne along by the crowd. But his chance came when the carriage-vestibule on Sixty-Fifth Street was reached. And there, quick to take advantage of an almost imperceptible cessation of the onward movement--consequent upon the people searching the ingeniously-devised board to ascertain whether the desired motors or carriages headed the long line--he again started in to elbow his way through the crush; and so successfully this time that presently comparatively few persons separated him from an undeniably blond and dashing young woman, in a magnificent opera-cloak of Russian sables, who was laughing and chatting with half a dozen or more vapid youths while following the lead of a portly and somewhat red-faced old gentleman. Now, though unusual--for want of a better word--as was the young man's behaviour, few people in this scene of orderly confusion, babel of voices and distant humming of motors, gave more than momentary attention to it except the young woman's escort. To these wondrous wise young gentlemen, however, the meaning of his frantic exertions to reach her side was all too plain, no less her feelings towards him; and, exchanging significant glances, they began to nudge one another to watch for the dénouement of the little comedy which was rapidly developing before their eyes. But alas for the futility of his brave resolutions...!