She was so
angry with him she dared not trust herself to speak.
"Just my luck," thought he. "I had a patron and a benefactress; I have
betrayed them both." Suddenly an idea struck him. "Madam," said he,
timorously, "see what these fine gentlemen are! What business had he,
with a wife at home, to come and fall in love with you? I do it forever
in my plays--I am obliged--they would be so dull else; but in _real_ life
to do it is abominable."
"You forget, sir," replied Mrs. Woffington, without moving, "that I am an
actress--a plaything for the impertinence of puppies and the treachery of
hypocrites. Fool! to think there was an honest man in the world, and that
he had shone on me!"
With these words she turned, and Triplet was shocked to see the change in
her face. She was pale, and her black, lowering brows were gloomy and
terrible. She walked like a tigress to and fro, and Triplet dared not
speak to her. Indeed she seemed but half conscious of his presence. He
went for nobody with her. How little we know the people we eat and go to
church and flirt with! Triplet had imagined this creature an incarnation
of gayety, a sportive being, the daughter of smiles, the bride of mirth;
needed but a look at her now to see that her heart was a volcano, her
bosom a boiling gulf of fiery lava. She walked like some wild creature;
she flung her hands up to heaven with a passionate despair, before which
the feeble spirit of her companion shrank and cowered; and, with
quivering lips and blazing eyes, she burst into a torrent of passionate
bitterness.
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