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Widdemer, Margaret, 1884-1978

"The Wishing-Ring Man"


He ought to have been in his dressing-room, but he was not. He was
looking for her, she almost thought, for he came quickly toward her
with his face lighted.
"I'm so glad I found you before the thing commenced, kiddie," he
said. "I just wanted to tell you that you're not to be frightened.
Do you hear? I forbid you to be frightened." He smiled down at her
protectingly. "You say you always do as I tell you--so you must this
time. I know you're going to make a howling success of the opera....
My dear, _don't_ look so worried about it all!"
They were in a little dim passage where no one was likely to come,
and he drew her close to him, and kept his arm around her.
"Do I look worried?" she answered simply. "I wasn't thinking about
'Iolanthe' so much. I suppose I'm tired with rehearsals, for it
seems to me as if something I didn't like was going to happen....
John, I never asked you before, but I feel so little and lonesome
tonight, and suddenly far away from everybody. Please say that you
haven't minded all the naughty things I've done--that you like me,
and forgive me, and----"
"Like you and forgive you, foolish child! ... I don't know that I
like you...." He looked down at her, laughingly. "And I have nothing
to forgive you for. Why, Joy, it goes a great deal further than
that. I thought you knew how much I cared for you."
She clung to him, there in her green and white draperies, with her
gold hair falling over them.


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