Richard smiled to himself as he heard the lines fall from
Roberta's lips. And beneath his breath he said:
"I don't see how you can bring yourself to say them, you modern girl.
You'd never let a real husband feel his power that way, I'll wager. If
you did--well--it would go to his head, I'm sure of that. What an idiot
I am to think I could ever make her look at me the way she looked even
at that schoolgirl _Petruchio_--with a clever imitation of devotion. O
Roberta Gray! But I'd rather worship you across the footlights than take
any other girl in my arms. And somehow--somehow I've got to make you at
least respect me. At least that, Roberta! Then--perhaps--more!"
At Ruth's side, when the play was ended, Richard hoped to attain at
least the chance to speak to Ruth's sister. The young players all
appeared upon the stage, the curtain being raised for the rest of the
evening, and the audience came up, group by group, to offer
congratulations and pour into gratified ears the praise which was the
reward of labour. Richard succeeded in getting by degrees into the
immediate vicinity of Roberta, who was continuously surrounded by happy
parents bent on presenting their felicitations.
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