"Do you hear?" he asked, angrily. "Good God! everything goes wrong. The
idiot that was to dramatize the story of "Man and Wife" for me has failed
in his work; the play is announced, and I have been up all night writing
and arranging a last act for it myself. If Miss Davenport thinks she has
been refused _Anne_, she will take her revenge by refusing to play
_Blanche_, and the cast is so full it will require all my people--you
_must_ say you received the part last night!"
"Mr. Daly," I said, "won't you please trust to my discretion. I don't
like lying, even for my daily bread, but if silence is golden, a discreet
silence is away above rubies."
He struck his hand angrily on the desk before him: "Miss Morris, when I
give an order----"
Up went my head: "Mr. Daly, I have nothing to do with your private
affairs; any business order----"
Heaven knows where we would have brought up had not a sudden darkness
come into the little room--a woman quickly passed the window. Mr. Daly
sprang to his feet, caught my fingers in a frantic squeeze, and pushing
me from the door rapidly, said: "Yes--yes--well, do your best with it.
I'm very glad Benot found you last night!" Then turning to the new-comer,
who had not been present the day before, he cheerfully exclaimed: "Well,
you didn't lose to-day's train, I see! I have a charming comedy part for
you--come in!"
She went in, and the storm broke, for as I felt my way through the
passage leading to the stage-stairs, I heard its rolling and rumbling,
and two dimly-seen men in front of me laughed, while one, pointing over
his shoulder, toward the office, sneered, meaningly: "Ethel stock is
going down, isn't it?"
And almost I wished I was back in a family theatre.