Larry the Bat! The Gray Seal! Jimmie Dale the millionaire! What if it
were ever known that that strange three were one! What if--Jimmie Dale
smiled whimsically. A burst of applause echoed through the house, the
orchestra was playing, the lights were on, seats banged, there was the
bustle of the rising audience, the play was at an end--and for the life
of him he could not have remembered a single line of the last act!
The aisle at his elbow was already crowded with people on their way out.
Jimmie Dale stooped down mechanically to reach for his hat beneath his
seat--and the next instant he was standing up, staring wildly into the
faces around him.
It had fallen at his feet--a white envelope. Hers! It was in his hand
now, those slim, tapering, wonderfully sensitive fingers of Jimmie
Dale, that were an "open sesame" to locks and safes, subconsciously
telegraphing to his mind the fact that the texture of the paper--was
hers. Hers! And she must be one of those around him--one of those
crowding either the row of seats in front or behind, or one of those
just passing in the aisle. It had fallen at his feet as he had stooped
over for his hat--but from just exactly what direction he could not
tell. His eyes, eagerly, hungrily, critically, swept face after face.
Which one was hers? What irony! She, whom he would have given his
life to know, for whom indeed he risked his life every hour of the
twenty-four, was close to him now, within reach--and as far removed as
though a thousand miles separated them.
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