"And now, by special request, Miss Warlick is going to say a few words," the elderly eye-glassed officer importantly announced.
Ah, what a pity! If only she had ended on that last jolly chorus, so full of artless laughter and tears! Troy remembered her dissertations on the steamer, and winced at a fresh display of such fatuity in such a scene.
She had let the cloak slip from her shoulders, and stepped to the edge of her unsteady stage. Her eyes burned large in a face grown suddenly grave. . . . For a moment she reminded him again of Sophy Wicks.
"Only a few words, really," she began apologetically; and the cellar started a cheer of protest.
"No—not that kind. Something different. . . ." She paused long enough to let the silence prepare them: sharp little artist that she was! Then
