"You'll go
back to-morrow a new man."
Her elbow was on the back of the settle and close to his shoulder.
His face caught the glow from the fire.
"Oh, I'm all right, I assure you," he said.
"You _do_ look better," observed Carolyn on her own account.
"This air is everything. Only a few hours of it----"
"Another bit of wood on the fire, if you please, Carolyn," said
her patroness.
"Let me do it," said Cope. He rose quickly and laid on a stick
or two. He remained standing on the edge of the glow. He hoped
nobody would say again that he was looking rather thin and
pale.
"And what is Mr. Lemoyne doing this evening?" presently
asked Mrs. Phillips in a dreamy undertone. Her manner was casual
and negligent; her voice was low and leisurely. She seemed
to place Lemoyne at a distance of many, many leagues. "Rehearsing,
I suppose?"
"Yes," replied Cope. "This new play has absorbed him completely."
"He will do well?"
"He always does. He always has."
"Men in girls' parts are so amusing," said Carolyn. "Their
walk is so heavy and clumsy, even if their dancing isn't. And
when they speak up in those big deep bass and baritone
voices.
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