But this brought him to face her, so close that she felt the same sense of drowning, of losing her footing, again. "Chris--please!" she whispered, in terror. "But, Norma--say it! Say that you love me--that's all that matters now! I've been losing my mind, I think. I've been losing my mind. Just that--that you do care!" "I have----" Tears came to her lifted blue eyes, and she brushed them away without moving her gaze from him. "I think I have always loved you, Chris--from the very first," she whispered. Instantly she saw his expression change. It was as if, with that revelation, a new responsibility began for him. "Here, dear, you mustn't cry!" he said, composedly. He gave her his handkerchief, helped her set the tipped hat and lace veil straight, smiled reassurance and courage into her eyes. "I'll see you, Norma--we'll talk," he said. "Oh, my God, to talk to you again! Come, now, we'll have to be here when Annie comes back--that's right. I--I love the little gown--terribly sweet. I haven't seen it before, you know; my crowd has done all its rehearsing at Mrs. Hitchcock's. Here's Annie now----" "Christopher," said Annie, in deadly, almost angry earnest, as she came up desperate and weary, "you'll have to sing this thing with Norma. Burgess Street absolutely refuses. He's in the chorus, and he sings, but he simply won't do a solo! His mother says he has a cold, and so on, and I swear I'll throw the whole thing up; I will, indeed!--rather than have this number ruined. There's no earthly reason why you can't do both--of course the poor old man couldn't help dying--but if you knew----" "My dear girl, of course I'll do it!" All the youth and buoyancy that had been missing from his voice for weeks had come back. Christopher laughed his old delightful laugh. "I'll have to have Roy's costume cut down, but Smithers will do it for me. I'll do my very best----" "Oh, Chris, God bless you," Annie said. "You'll do it better than he ever did. Take my car and stop for his suit, and express whatever's decent--the funeral will be Saturday morning and we'll all have to go, but there's no help for it. And come to my house for dinner, and you and Norma can go over it afterward; you poor girl, you're tired out, but it's such a Godsend to have Chris fill in. And it will be the prettiest number of all." Tired out? The radiant girl who was tripping away to change to street attire was hardly conscious that her feet touched the ground. The stage, the theatre, the fur coat into which she buttoned herself, the fragrance of the violets she wore, were all touched with beauty and enchantment.