Avonarina still knelt at the front of the stage, her eyes glowing, her gaze fixed on Jesus as he still stood in the place where he had arisen.

He now stepped into the aisle and raised his hand, and in a tone of perfect appeal commanded all who respected themselves, their children, the good name of the city, the heritage of those yet unborn, in the love of purity and honor and common decency of thought, to follow him and leave the scene.

For an instant there was no movement. Jesus walked up the aisle alone. Then, as if by agreement, people began to rise all over the house. Even at the farthest distance, people sitting in the rear seats could be seen getting up. Row after row of men and women stood and began streaming toward the foyers. The number increased every moment. There were more leaving than remaining.

Afterward, an estimate was made that over two thousand eight hundred went out. It was a most bewildering sight, not thought of in the wildest imagining of a theatergoing public. For New York has, to confess truth, presented to patrons of theatrical amusements some very questionable plays in moral standard, and never before has anyone left to express disapproval.

But a more astounding scene was enacted in the main entrance at the foot of the staircase. Manager Bardeau has been tireless in his effort to make “The Girdle of Venus” his artistic triumph of the season. He has lavished fabulous sums on costumes, stage setting, salaries, and advertising generally. He was in the main foyer, receiving the congratulations of friends after the first act, and was on his way to his box when Jesus rose and stopped the Pageant.

He hurried back to the foyer, incensed in the extreme at this unprecedented interruption of what promised to be the beginning of a great artistic and financial success. His quickness of action is well known, and before Jesus had begun to make his appeal to the people to leave the house, Bardeau had summoned two officers.

Now followed what seems to many the most convincing proof of all that this remarkable person is Jesus.

Scores of people preceded him going out, with bowed heads, passing through the exits in perfect silence, impelled, as they themselves afterwards said, by feelings of shame and an indefinable impulse to obey the voice.

When Jesus came out, he met Manager Bardeau and the officers. Those who were near enough (and Jesus was hemmed in by the crowd going out) say Manager Bardeau used the words, “You insolent fanatic!” Then he said to the officers, “Arrest him for disturbing the performance.”

Jesus glanced calmly at Bardeau and did not even glance at the officers. He made no resistance, offered no force to anyone. He simply walked straight on.

And here was the astonishing fact: the officers did not even step towards him. They stood perfectly still and let him walk out.