"Quite a success," said one of them.
"Yes, indeed," from another. "Paxhorn, I congratulate you again, old
man."
"Thank you," replied the author, his face beaming with satisfaction.
"Thanks to Leroy, it will run for a hundred nights, and my name will be
made."
"On Bon-bons," sneered Shelton; "what a thing it is to be a popular
playwright."
"Better to be a popular dancer," whispered Paxhorn, as the door swung
open again, and Adrien came out, with Ada Lester on his arm, Mr. Jasper
Vermont following behind them.
"All here?" asked Leroy in his clear voice, as they descended the steps
to where the motors stood waiting. "Come along"--turning to the rest of
the party--"we are all going to supper to celebrate Ada's triumph.
Paxhorn, dismiss your car, old man, and come with us; we want to hear
the rustle of your laurels."
Laughingly, they entered the vehicles, while, above all the others, rang
the harsh voice of the woman, and Jessica, hearing it, shuddered
involuntarily. Then they were gone.
Suddenly, while the girl's eyes were straining after them, the last
motor stopped, and Jasper Vermont jumped out and hastened back into the
theatre.
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