How she used to
listen for that whistle, especially on Saturdays. Why, _this_ was
Saturday! In the exciting rush of events she had forgotten completely
that Dan would be waiting for her at five o'clock at the foot of
Cemetery Street. Never once in the months she had been at Miss Bobinet's
had he failed to be there on Saturday afternoon. If only she could send
him some word, make some excuse! But it was not easy to deceive Dan, and
she knew he would never rest until he got at the truth of the matter.
No; she had better take Mrs. Snawdor's advice and run no risks. And yet
that thought of Dan waiting patiently at the corner tormented her as
she finished the packing.
When the time arrived to report at the theater, Birdie had not returned,
so Nance rushed off alone at the last minute. It was not until the first
chorus was about to be called that the principal show girl, flushed and
tired, flung herself into the dressing-room and made a lightning change
in time to take her place at the head of the line.
There was a rehearsal between the afternoon and evening performances, and
the girls had little time for confidences.
"Don't ask me any questions!" said Birdie crossly, as she sat before her
dressing-table, wearily washing off the make-up of the afternoon in order
to put on the make-up of the evening. "I'm so dog tired I'd lots rather
be going to bed than to that carnival thing!"
"Don't you back out!" warned Nance, to whom it was ridiculous that any
one should be tired under such exhilarating circumstances.
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