The Mission of a Letter

All through the remainder of the play he sat as one stunned, scarcely
removing his eyes from the glittering stage, yet seeing nothing there
excepting her. He could not later have recalled a single scene.
Between the acts he conversed rationally enough with those about him,
congratulating her people upon the brilliant success of the evening,
and warmly commending the work of the Star. Yet this was all
mechanical, automatic, his mind scarcely realizing its own action.

She never glanced in that direction again; during all the four acts not
once did she permit her eyes to rest upon their box. The others may
not have noticed the omission, but he did, his interpretation of the
action becoming a pain. It served to strengthen the resolve which was
taking possession of him. He noticed, also, that she played
feverishly, vehemently, not with that quiet restraint, that promise of
reserve power, always so noticeable in the old days. It caused him to
realize that she was working upon her nerves, holding herself up to the
strain by the sheer strength of will. The papers the next day
commented upon this, hinting at nervousness, at exhilaration consequent
upon so notable a greeting. But Winston knew the cause better--he knew
the spectre which had so suddenly risen before her, turning her white
and frightened at the very moment of supreme triumph. There, in front
of them all, under the full glare of the lights, herself the very focus
of thousands of eyes, she had been compelled to fight down her heart,
and win a victory greater than that of the actress. In that instant
she had conquered herself, had trodden, smiling and confident, over the
awakened memories of the past.