Level stares from the women returned his gaze, and they edged away a little from his vicinity as they passed, their escorts crowding somewhat belligerently into their places.

Others, in the same row of seats as his own, were impatiently waiting to get by him.

With a muttered apology, Jimmie Dale raised the seat of his chair, allowing these latter to pass him--and then, slipping the letter into his pocketbook, he snatched up his hat from the seat rack.
There was still a chance.

Knowing he was there, she would be on her guard; but in the lobby, among the crowd and unaware of his presence, there was the possibility that, if he could reach the entrance ahead of her, she, too, might be talking and laughing as she left the theatre.
Just a single word, just a tone--that was all he asked.
The row of seats at whose end he stood was empty now, and, instead of stepping into the thronged aisle, he made his way across to the opposite side of the theatre.

Here, the far aisle was less crowded, and in a minute he had gained the foyer, confident that he was now in advance of her.