Marion Marlowe Entrapped, or, The Victim of Professional Jealousy — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

4 MY QUEEN. Pshaw !” said the man, indifferently, as he moved away from her. “You are in love with yourself far more than with me, Car- lotta. You’d scratch the eyes out of my head this minute if you dared to.” The woman sprang to her feet and con- lronted him like a tigress. “And you refuse to listen to my entreat- ies ?” she asked, breathlessly. “Am I to under- stand that in future you will do nothing to please me?” ¥ “I shall do nothing that interferes with my success in business,” said the man, very sternly. “Il would be a fool indeed to let myself be influenced by a woman.” The singer’s breath was coming in gasps now, and she clenched her hands together un- _ til they were bloodless and rigid. “Why do you lke this girl so much, Clayte?” she asked, tensely. “Is she so much handsomer than I, or does she sing $0 much better ?” - “The public think she’is handsomer,’ 3 said the man, evasively, “and you have read what the critics say about her voice.” “But you, Clayte, what do your think?” was the woman’s eager answer; ‘what is there about her that makes you prefer her 2” Clayton Graham turned and looked the woman squarely in the, eye. . “Ter, greatest charm is her modesty,” he » said, slowly and clearly, “and she is attract- “ive to me because she is a virttlous woman.” If he had struck her with a lash the words could not have cut more deeply. The woman shrank away from him, her breath coming shorter and faster. “That is like you, Clayte—to ruin a woman and then insult her!’ she hissed between her teeth. “But beware, Clayton (jraham. You had better not go too far! *Carlotta has blood in her veins, real blood, that will avenge an ‘insult. You may yet live to feel the power of a wronged and scorned woman,” ill?” asked the beautiful -girl, kindly. Pal For answer the manager promptly turned his back upon her. The next moment she was | alone amid the mocking emblems of mirth. The last vestige of self-control vanished as she fell upon the floor in a perfect frenzy of passion. . “Wait! Wait!” she muttered over and over, between her set teeth. “Just wait until Car- lotta has gained her self-control, then look out, Clayte Graham and Marion Marlowe, for, innocent though you are, I shall not spare you! I shall have my-revenge! Aye, and it shall be a grand one! Leave a scorned woman alone for plotting vengeance! I shall play my cards most cleverly, but each play shall tell. ‘They shall find me no weakling in the game of love and jealousy!” She staggered to her feet.and began dress- ing rapidly. It was time that she was out of the dark, empty building. Suddenly a light tap sounded on the dressing-room door. The woman opened it and confronted a beautiful young girl. It was “Sienorita Ila de Parloa,” according to the programme, but in private life, no other than Marion Mar- lowe. CHAPTER fil. CAUGHT IN “A TRAP. “Pardon me, mademoiselle, but are you al | a a thought I heard you weeping, and. J could — not resist speaking to you.” She looked so sweet and innocent, standing — there in the dismal place, that for a moment a flush of shame dyed the Graham and the wrong he had done her flashed over her brain, and instantly the flame of jealousy leaped again within her. “IT must fool her,” she thought in that one brief moment. “I must play my cards well, ‘ . . se if | am to wreak my vengeance on this girl. Almost like magie,a eharans smile, took black-hearted — woman’s features; then a thought of Clayton —