She shivered slightly and he drew her cloak tightly about
her and kissed the cherry lips within the hood.
"You're cold, dearest. Let us hurry. I ought not to have lingered," said
he.
"No, no. I'm not a bit cold. I only had a sort of feeling that--kiss me
again."
He was quick to obey and her kisses were as fervent as his.
"See me to my door and go quickly," she murmured.
"To-morrow, dear love, we shall meet each other again," was his reply.
"Why yes--yes."
"Many times more."
She nodded. Something seemed to choke her utterance. One more kiss and
she vanished into the house.
Vane remained for a minute or two gazing at the dwelling that enshrined
his divinity and lost in rapture. Then he slowly wandered to his
lodgings marvelling at the glimpse of heaven which to his imagination
had been revealed to him.
CHAPTER XXVII
THE CURTAIN FALLS
Before the week was out the only topic in which the town took any
interest was "The Beggar's Opera," and the "all Conquering Polly," as an
advertisement setting forth the attractions of a miniature screen
designed as a memento of the opera, had it. In a score of ways
enterprising tradesmen adapted the scenes and the songs to their wares
and in all Polly was the principal feature. Polly became the fashion
everywhere. Amateur flautists played her songs, amateur vocalists
warbled them. Hardly a week passed without one daily journal or the
other burst into verse in her praise.
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