Without a single word
he quite calmly turned and opened the door and passed outside. Nay, he
was so considerate as to leave the door open for her; for he knew she
would be wanted on the stage directly. He himself went up into the
wings--in his gay costume of satin and silk and powdered wig and
ruffles.
Had the audience only known, during the last act of this comedy, what
fierce passions were agitating the breasts of the two chief performers
in this pretty play, they might have looked on with added interest. How
could they tell that the gallant and dashing Harry Thornhill was in his
secret heart filled with anger and disdain whenever he came near his
charming sweetheart? how could they divine that the coquettish Grace
Mainwaring was not thinking of her wiles and graces at all, but was on
the road to a most piteous repentance? The one was saying to himself,
"Very well, let the vixen go to the devil; a happy riddance!" and the
other was saying, "Oh, dear me, what have I done?--why did he put me in
such a passion?" But the public in the stalls were all unknowing. They
looked on and laughed, or looked on and sat solemn and stolid, as
happened to be their nature; and then they slightly clapped their
pale-gloved hands, and rose and donned their cloaks and coats.
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