But
they could only hear, not see, so dimly was the theatre lighted.
Meanwhile Vane had sprung to his feet.
"You lie you ruffian," he shouted and his hand went to his sword.
The people in the front and back benches rose; the women screamed; one
of the theatre attendants who chanced to be near seized Rofflash who
struggled violently and swore loudly. Some of the audience came to the
attendant's assistance and the fellow was flung out. The uproar soon
subsided--it had not lasted more than a couple of minutes, the music
went on and Polly thought no more about it. She had not the slightest
idea that the chief actors in it so nearly concerned herself.
The sequel to the discomposing interruption was totally unpremeditated.
Polly was the "toast of the town," the idol of the sparks of fashion.
Their applause was uproarious when she and Lucy recommenced the duet,
but this sympathetic encouragement was not enough for the more ardent
spirits. When she issued from the stage door she found awaiting her a
bodyguard of young aristocrats dressed in the height of the mode and in
the gayest of colours. At her appearance every man's sword flashed from
its scabbard and was uplifted to do her honour.
Never was such a triumph. No wonder her heart bounded and her cheeks
flushed with pleasure. She smiled right and left and bowed; the rapiers
on either side crossed each other over her head and formed a canopy
under which she walked with a dainty grace.
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