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As soon as it was over, Dorian Gray rushed behind the scenes into

the greenroom. The girl was standing there alone, with a look of

triumph on her face. Her eyes were lit with an exquisite fire.

There was a radiance about her. Her parted lips were smiling over

some secret of their own.

When he entered, she looked at him, and an expression of infinite

joy came over her. "How badly I acted to-night, Dorian!" she

cried.

"Horribly!" he answered, gazing at her in amazement. "Horribly!

It was dreadful. Are you ill? You have no idea what it was. You

have no idea what I suffered."

The girl smiled. "Dorian," she answered, lingering over his name

with long-drawn music in her voice, as though it were sweeter

than honey to the red petals of her mouth. "Dorian, you should

have understood. But you understand now, don't you?"

"Understand what?" he asked, angrily.

"Why I was so bad to-night. Why I shall always be bad. Why I

shall never act well again."