But we'll get him out for the matinee. And
watch the evening papers."
It was then that a terrable thought struck me. What if
Adrian considered it beneath his profession to advertize, even
if indirectly? What if he prefered the failure of Miss Everett's
couzin's play to a bruize on the eye? What, in short, if he
refused?
Dear Dairy, I was stupafied. I knew not which way to turn.
For Men are not like Women, who are dependible and anxious to
get along, and will sacrifise anything for Success. No, men are
likely to turn on the ones they love best, if the smallest
Things do not suit them, such as cold soup, or sleaves to long
from the shirt-maker, or plans made which they have not been
consulted about beforhand.
"Darling!" said Jane, as I turned away, "you look
_stricken_!"
"My head aches," I said, with a weary gesture toward my
forehead. It did ache, for that matter. It is acheing now, dear
Dairy.
However, I had begun my task and must go through with it.
Abandoning Jane at a corner, in spite of her calling me cruel
and even sneeking, I went to Adrian's hotel, which I had learned
of during my _seance_ in his room while he was changing his
garments behind a screan, as it was marked on a dressing case.
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