He by chance cast his glance up the unused staircase leading to the balcony
from the northern part of the lobby. He saw upon the third step a young
woman in a dark flannel outing-dress, her face concealed by a veil. She
seemed to be watching some one among those who stood or moved near the
Montgomery Avenue exits, which had wire barriers.
"By Jove!" he said, within himself, "surely I know that figure! But I
thought she had gone to the Catskills, and I never supposed her capable of
wearing negligee clothes at the theatre. There can be no mistaking that
wrist, though, or that turn of the shoulders."
He stepped softly to her side and lightly touched one of the admired
shoulders.
She turned quickly and suppressed an exclamation ere it was half-uttered.
"Why, Harry--Doctor Haslam, I mean! How did you know it was I?"
"Why, Amy--that is to say, Miss Winnett! What on earth are you doing here?
Pardon the question, but I thought you were on the mountains. I'm all the
more glad to see you."
While he pressed her hand she looked searchingly into his eyes, a fact of
which he was conscious despite her veil.
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