Shelton watched her with a sneer.
"Hark! how they applaud," he said, glancing up at the crowded and
delighted house. "They seem to admire her, anyway. Long live Miss Ada,
Queen of dancers. Adrien, why do you put up with that painted vixen?"
Leroy smiled at his sudden change of tone.
"Don't let her hear you," he said. "And don't worry yourself about me,
old fellow."
"You're afraid of her," continued his friend. "Oh, yes, you may think it
an impertinence if you like, but I know you are. You'd face a cannon's
mouth sooner than that woman's angry abuse. You dread a scene as a
musician does a false note. For me, I'm sick of the whole world."
"Why do you remain in it, then?" asked Adrien, laughing.
"For the same reason as yourself," replied the cynic. "Neither of us
know what the next will be like."
Adrien laughed, but before he could explain to his friend his plan with
regard to Ada, a crowd of pretty dancers in silver gauze surrounded him,
begging for real bon-bons, instead of the painted property sweets given
out to them.
"Do you girls think I am made of bon-bons, like the piece?" he said,
waving them back.
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