Surely, if he were to come and look into her face, she would recognise him at once, and the old common interests would rise to her lips as of old.
Theophil went again to the theatre the next night, and again the next, which was the last of the company's stay in the town; and the spell of the false Florimel grew so strong upon him that at the close of the final performance he sent up his card to the actress, and presently, as in a dream, found himself stumbling among scenery and dipping under beams on his way to the actress's room.

If she were only as like Jenny close to, he felt he must follow her to the end of the world; and indeed the illusion still held as he entered the little mirrored room, smelling of powder and littered with laces and silks,--fancy little Jenny here among the grease-paints and the bouquets! It was only with the lack of recognition in the polite welcome the actress gave him that the illusion began to waver, or was it only that Jenny had forgotten him?
So possessed had he been with the hallucination, that he had not thought what excuse he would have to make to the actress for his visit, and it was with an embarrassing shock that the necessity of speech came to him, when he had stumbled through some mechanical words of salutation.

She looked at him with a little air of bewilderment, and motioned to her attendant to leave them alone.

As the door closed, Theophil had determined to tell her the simple truth.
"I have to ask your pardon," he began, "for a very strange intrusion.
The reason of it is simply this.

You are so like someone I love who is dead that I felt I could not rest till I had spoken to you.