VIII
A HISTORY
Whitaker returned at once to the Theatre Max, but only to find the front of the
house dark, Forty-sixth Street gradually reassuming its normal nocturnal aspect.
At the stage-door he discovered that no one knew what had become of the
manager. He might possibly be at home.... It appeared that Max occupied
exclusive quarters especially designed for him in the theatre building itself: an amiable idiosyncrasy not wholly lacking in advertising value, if one chose to consider it in that light.
His body-servant, a prematurely sour Japanese, suggested grudgingly that his employer might not improbably be found at Rector's or Louis Martin's. But he wasn't; not by Whitaker, at least.
Eventually the latter realized that it wasn't absolutely essential to his peace of mind or mater
