‘What shall I do?
What shall I do?’
She had thought she was getting over it, and now that brief, silly conversation had shown her that she loved him as much as ever.
She wanted him.
She missed him every minute of the day.
She could not do without him.
‘I shall never get over it,’ she moaned.
Once again the theatre was her only refuge.
By an ironic chance the great scene of the play in which she was then acting, the scene to which the play owed its success, showed the parting of two lovers.
It was true that they parted from a sense of duty; and Julia, in the play, sacrificed her love, her hopes of happiness, all that she held dear, to an ideal of uprightness.
It was a scene that had appealed to her from the beginning.
She was wonderfully moving in it.
She put into it now all the agony of her spirit; it was no longer the broken heart of a character that she portrayed but her own.
In ordinary life she tried to stifle a passion that she knew very well was ridiculous, a love that was unworthy of the woman she was, and she steeled herself to think as little as possible of the wretched boy who had wrought such havoc with her; but when she came to this scene she let herself go.
She gave free rein to her anguish. She was hopeless with her own loss, and the love she poured out on the man who was playing opposite to her was the love she still felt, the passionate, devouring love, for Tom.
The prospect of the empty life that confronted the woman of the play was the prospect of her own empty life.
There was at least that solace, she felt she had never played so magnificently.
‘My God, it’s almost worth while to suffer so frightfully to give such a performance.’
She had never put more of herself into a part.
One night a week or two later when she came into her dressing-room at the end of the play, exhausted by all the emotion she had displayed, but triumphant after innumerable curtain calls, she found Michael sitting there.
‘Hulloa?
You haven’t been in front, have you?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you were in front two or three days ago.’
‘Yes, I’ve sat through the play for the last four nights.’
She started to undress.
He got up from his chair and began to walk up and down.
She gave him a glance and saw that he was frowning slightly.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘That’s what I want to know.’
She gave a start.
The thought flashed through her mind that he had once more heard something about Tom.
‘Why the devil isn’t Evie here?’ she asked.
‘I told her to get out.
I’ve got something to say to you, Julia.
It’s no good your flying in a temper.
You’ve just got to listen.’
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
‘Well, what is it?’
‘I heard something was up and I thought I’d better see for myself.
At first I thought it was just an accident.
That’s why I didn’t say anything till I was quite sure.
What’s wrong with you, Julia?’
‘With me?’
‘Yes.
Why are you giving such a lousy performance?’
‘Me?’ That was the last thing she expected to hear him say.
She faced him with blazing eyes.
‘You damned fool, I’ve never acted better in my life.’
‘Nonsense.