'Nothing in this world but that one thing can defeat my certain
election and nothing but that one thing shall de--"

"That will do," thundered his master. "Are you going to play the
part? Get out of the way and let's get on with the act, in
heaven's name! Down stage a step, Miss Ellsling. No; I said
down. A step, not a mile! There! Now, if you consent to be
ready, ladies and gentlemen. Very well. 'Nothing in this world
but that one thing can defeat my certain election and noth--'"
Again he interrupted himself unexpectedly. In the middle of the
word there came a catch in his voice; he broke off, and whirling
once more upon the miserable Miss Lyston, he transfixed her with
a forefinger and a yell.

"It wasn't a cough! What was that horrible noise you made?"

Miss Lyston, being unable to reply in words, gave him for answer
an object-lesson which demonstrated plainly the nature of the
horrible noise. She broke into loud, consecutive sobs, while
Potter, very little the real cause of them, altered in
expression from indignation to the neighborhood of lunacy.

"She's doing this in purpose!" he cried. "What's the matter
with her? She's sick! Miss Lyston, you're sick! Packer, get her
away--take her away. She's sick! Send her home--send her home in
a cab! Packer!"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I'll arrange it. Don't be disturbed."

The stage-manager was already at the sobbing lady's side, and