“Loves me?” asked Bob Hart, rising from the stack of scenery on which helay. “Cherry loves me? Why, it’s impossible.”
“I wish you could see her and hear her,” said Griggs.
“But, man,” said Bob Hart, sitting up, “it’s impossible. It’s impossible, I tell you. I never dreamed of such a thing.”
“No human being,” said the Tramp Juggler, “could mistake it. She’s wild for love of you. How have you been so blind?”
“But, my God,” said Bob Hart, rising to his feet, “it’s too late. It’s too late, I tell you, Sam; it’s too late. It can’t be. You must be wrong. It’s impossible. There’s some mistake.”
“She’s crying for you,” said the Tramp Juggler. “For love of you she’s fighting three, and calling your name so loud they don’t dare to raise the curtain. Wake up, man.”
“For love of me?” said Bob Hart with staring eyes. “Don’t I tell you it’s too late? It’s too late, man. Why, Cherry and I have been married two years!”
