Nothing else matters. What he needs now is luxury. He's
worn out with fighting. Ease. Peace. Leisure. You've got
to give them to him. It's no use, Fanny. You lose."
In that moment she reached a mark in her spiritual career
that she was to outdistance but once.
Theodore was bowing again. Fanny had scarcely realized that
he had finished. The concert was over.
". . . the group of dances," the man behind her was saying
as he helped the girl next him with her coat, "but I didn't
like that first thing. Church music, not concert."
Fanny found her way back to the ante-room. Theodore was
talking to the conductor, and one or two others. He looked
tired, and his eyes found Fanny's with appeal and
relief in them. She came over to him. There were
introductions, congratulations. Fanny slipped her hand over
his with a firm pressure.
"Come, dear. You must be tired."
At the door they found Fenger waiting. Theodore received
his well-worded congratulations with an ill-concealed scowl.
"My car's waiting," said Fenger.
Pages:
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491