Their place on the bill was near the end, that week: a trick bicyclist followed them, and moving-pictures wound up the performance. Consequently, by the time they were able to leave the theatre in the afternoon the sun was already below the horizon. They emerged the same evening from the stage-door to view a cloudless sky of pulsing amber, shading into purple at the zenith, melting into rose along the western rim of the world. A wash of old rose flooded the streets, lifting the meanest structures out of their ugliness, lending an added dignity to rows of square-set, old-fashioned residences of red-brick with white marble trimmings. "Which way are you going?" Quard enquired as they approached the corner of a main thoroughfare. "Back to the hotel?" "No; I'm sick of that hole," Joan replied with a vivid shudder. "I'm going to take a walk. Want to come?" "I was just going to ask you." They turned off toward the Delaware. It was the twenty-first of November--winter still a month away; yet the breath of winter was in the air. It came up cool and brisk from the river, enriching the colour in Joan's cheeks that were bright and glowing from the scrubbing she always gave them after removing grease-paint with cold cream. The blood coursed tingling through her veins. Her eyes shone with deepened lustre. They walked with spirit, in step, in a pensive silence infrequently disturbed. "Of course," Quard presently offered without preface, "it's different in vodeveal, if you stick to it." "What's different?" "Being married." Joan's eyes widened momentarily. Then she laughed outright. "Gee! You don't mean to say you've been chewing _that_ rag ever since breakfast?" "Ah, I just happened to think of it again," said Quard with the air of one whose motives are wantonly misconstrued. Nevertheless, he wouldn't let the subject languish. "There's plenty of family acts been playing the circuits Gawd knows how long," he pursued, with a vast display of interest in the sunset glow. "Look't the Cohans, before George planted the American flag in Longacre Square and annexed it to the United States. And they ain't the only ones by a long shot. I could name a plenty that'll stick in the big time until their toes curl. It's all right to trot in double-harness so long's you manage your own company." "Well?" Joan asked with a sober mouth and mischievous eyes. "Well--what?" "If you're getting ready to slip me my two-weeks' notice, why not be a man and say so?" "What would I do that for?" Quard demanded indignantly. "Because you're thinking about getting married; and there's only room for one leading lady in any company I play in." "Quit your kidding," the man advised sulkily; "you know I couldn't get along without you." "Yes," Joan admitted calmly, "_I_ know it, but I didn't know you did." Quard shot a suspicious glance askance, but her face was immobile in its flawless loveliness.