Amy gave a nod of agreement. Yet why this critical zeal? There was but one
man to like, after all.
"That make-up! That low-cut gown!" said George, in further condemnation.
"There's such a thing as going too far."
Basil Randolph met Cope in the back lobby at the close of the performance.
The dramatic season in the city itself had begun to languish; besides that,
Randolph, in order to maintain his place on the edge of the life
academical, always made it a point to remember the Grayfriars each spring.
"A very thorough, consistent piece of work--your friend's," said Randolph.
He spoke in a firm, net, withholding tone, looking Cope full in the face,
meanwhile. What he said was little, perhaps, of what was in his mind; yet
Cope caught a note of criticism and of condemnation.
"Yes," he almost felt constrained to say in reply, "yes, I know what you
did for him--for me, rather; and possibly this is not the outcome foreseen.
I hope you won't regret your aid."
Randolph went past him placidly. He seemed to have little to regret. On the
contrary, he almost appeared to be pleased. He may have felt that Lemoyne
had shown himself in a tolerably clear light, and that it was for Cope,
should he choose, to take heed.
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