better talk! Everybody is intrigued with the play, and they all seem to
think the production is a sure hit. And they’re wild about Paula! I’ve
never heard such talk in my life! Even the man from the _Times_ and the
man from the _Post_ were smiling and talking about Paula!”
“I knew that Paula would make a hit,” Peggy said warmly. “Isn’t she
good?”
“She couldn’t be better,” Amy agreed. “I just hope that she comes out of
this between-the-acts trance of hers when the play is over.”
“She’s still doing that?” Peggy asked, concerned.
“Good!” Greta said. “As long as she keeps it up, I have a feeling that
the play will go. Don’t worry about it. It’s just an especially strong
case of character identification. She’ll be herself again when she reads
the reviews in the morning.”
The lights flickered on and off.
“Oh-oh!” Amy said. “I’d better get back out front. See you between the
acts again!” With a wave of her hand she was gone.
“Let’s go, Greta,” Peggy said. “We’re on.”
Peggy felt calmer, somehow, in Act Two than she had before. The first
feelings of stage fright had left her, and she fell into her lines with
a practiced ease. No longer worrying about the words or about the stage
directions, both of which had been so drilled into her as to become
second nature, she became aware of the audience in a new and pleasant
way.
The faceless crowd out front was suddenly transformed for her into a
large group of friendly people. They were not hostile. They were warm
and eager to be pleased, interested in the play and the players. For the
first time, she felt a communication between herself and them, and as
she felt it, she realized that she was acting better, playing the part
as she had never done in rehearsals. Her confidence grew, and with it,
her pleasure in her craft. Peggy was learning how it really feels to be
an actress.
The second act went smoothly and well. The cast was sharp and alert; no
cues were missed; no lines were muffed. The timing was sharp and
professional, and remained so as the pace increased to build to the
shattering second-act curtain.
Watching it from the wings, Peggy was entranced with Paula and all the
supporting cast. If she had thought that this scene was already worked
to perfection in rehearsals, she had been mistaken. Now, in the presence
of the audience, a new life and vigor suffused Paula, and a new note of
urgency was felt. At the climax of the scene, when Paula collapsed in
tears and the actors standing round her seemed almost to flicker from
one personality to the other, the silence in the theater was electric.
The curtain descended and, a moment later, the audience burst into
thunderous applause. Peggy, limp with excitement, watched in almost
shocked surprise as Paula rose from the stage. She had half expected her
to remain sobbing on the floor as she had done in rehearsals, but now,
when Paula stood up, Peggy saw that her face was suffused with a smile
of pure girlish delight. She was good! The audience knew she was good
... the cast knew she was good ... and—most important—she now knew it
herself. Radiantly, she came to Peggy and said, in a quiet and
controlled voice, “I think we’re doing well, don’t you?”
Then both of them laughed aloud, knowing beyond all shadow of a doubt
that this was the understatement of the evening.
A few minutes before the third act, Randy knocked at the dressing-room
door.
“Come in,” Peggy said. “We’re decent.”
“You’re more than decent,” Randy said with a grin, “you’re marvelous!
Both of you,” he added, with a nod to Greta.
“Thank you,” Greta said. “And now, if I know anythink about anything, I
think I’d better leave you two alone!”
“Greta!” Peggy said in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean by....”
“You tell her, Randy,” Greta said, edging past him. “But don’t take too
long. We’re on in a few minutes.”
“She’s ... she’s just being silly,” Peggy said, blushing.
“Is she?” Randy asked innocently. “I thought she was making perfect
sense!”
Peggy began carefully to inspect her make-up and touch up her eyebrows.
“Don’t get so shy all of a sudden,” Randy said. “Besides, I didn’t come
here to ... well, I mean, I had no intention....” He paused awkwardly.
“Anyway,” he finished, “at least not now, I didn’t. I really came to
tell you that I’ve been to see Paula’s parents in the projection booth,
and I’ve never seen two happier people in my life. If they glowed any
more than they’re doing now, they’d throw the whole lighting plan out of
kilter!”
“Then they don’t mind having waited to see Paula?” Peggy asked.
“Not at all. They feel sure now that you were right. Mrs. Andrews said
that she wouldn’t have done anything that could have hurt Paula’s
performance. And what a performance!”
The lights flicked off and on, warning them that curtain time was near.
“I’d better go,” Randy said. “I just wanted to tell you I’d seen them,
and also to tell you that we’re all invited to a party they’re giving
after the show. They want to wait up for the first editions of the
papers to see what kind of reviews we get.”
“Will we get reviews in the first editions?” Peggy asked. “I thought
only the first-string critics did that, for important show openings.”
“That’s right,” Randy said, helping Peggy up the circular stair. “And
we’ve got the first-string critics! That’s the one piece of
‘interference’ that Mr. Andrews indulged in. He called the newspaper
reviewers and told them that he had heard of the show, and that it would
be worth their while to cover it themselves, instead of sending
assistants the way they do with so many off-Broadway openings.
Apparently a word from him is all it takes, because they’re all out
there ... and a lot of other important people, too!”
“Oh dear!” said Peggy. “I wish you hadn’t told me! It’s going to make
the whole thing difficult all over again!”
“Places!” Murphy called.
“So long!” Randy said, and left, but not before he had quickly placed a
kiss on the back of Peggy’s neck, where it wouldn’t spoil her make-up.
XVII
S.R.O.
Peggy was writing a letter to Jean Wilson, her friend back home in
Rockport, Wisconsin. She was already on the third page.
... so Paula’s parents agreed to stay out of sight until after opening
night. As you can see from the clippings I’ve enclosed, the play went
off wonderfully. Every paper loved us—and the whole audience, too. At
the final curtain, they wouldn’t let us off! We got curtain after
curtain, and I thought the applause would never stop for Paula. She got
seven solo curtain calls! (I shouldn’t brag, but I got two myself.)
When Paula was handed an enormous bouquet of roses somewhere along about
the third or fourth curtain call, and when she saw that the card on them
was from her mother and father, I thought she was going to fly around
the stage like Peter Pan! She managed to keep her head, though, and they
kept out of sight in the projection booth until all the critics and
everybody else had left the theater. They didn’t want Paula to think
that their presence had any effect on whatever it was the critics were
going to write.
I don’t think it would have mattered, anyway. When I saw Paula right
after the final curtain, she said that she had lost all her silly fears,
and that she didn’t even care about the reviews, because she knew for
herself what she was worth. I’m glad she finally figured it out!
After it was all over, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews gave a party for the
cast—and you’ll never guess where! It was at Sir Brian Alwyne’s house!
It seems that they’re old friends of Sir Brian—as I told you, he’s
really interested in the theater—and that explains why Paula wouldn’t go
there for the audition. Sir Brian has known her since she was a child,
and he knew that she was supposed to be in Europe. When she heard that
the audition was to be at his home, Paula just panicked. She didn’t know
what to do, so she ran.
Sir Brian was very charming to me at the party. He said that although he
was pleased that Paula had played the lead, and although she had done a
magnificent job, he had been looking forward to seeing me in the part. I
thought it was very sweet of him.
It was a wonderful party. We stayed up almost all night, until the early
editions of the papers came out, and then we sat around reading the best
phrases out of each of the reviews, and repeating them to each other
endlessly.
We owe a lot to Paula’s parents for getting the top critics down to see
us. And we also owe them a lot for getting other people to come too. The
play has been running for a week now and we’ve actually had to put up
the S.R.O. sign (“standing room only,” you know). Let me tell you about
a few of the good things that have happened.
First, Paula. After the opening, she got two major movie studio contract
offers again, and right now she’s in the process of deciding which one
to take. She has all the confidence in the world—as well as all the
talent—and she has definitely decided to go into the movies. But she has
told both the studios that she won’t be available until the play is
over, because she wants to play out the entire run at the Penthouse
Theater. It’s darned nice of her, because we have no run-of-play
contract with anybody in the cast. Still, looking at it honestly, and in
as practical a light as I can, I guess she does owe us something. But
not as much as we owe her for being as good as she was! (And is.)
Next, Randy. One of the biggest Broadway producers (I’m not allowed to
say who) has bought an option on Randy’s next play. That means that, if
he likes it, he’ll produce it in a Broadway theater! Not only that, but
he wants Mal to direct it, because he says that Mal is a wonderful
director, and has an obvious sympathy and understanding for Randy’s
work. Just think, Jean, my friends may be the new celebrities of the
theater world!
Then there’s Greta. She’s been offered a leading role in the national
company of _Moonbeam_, which is the biggest hit on Broadway today. They
start on tour in two months, so we’re going to have to find a
replacement for her. I’ll miss her, but it’s a wonderful break, and
she’d be wrong to turn it down.
Some of the other cast members have done well, too, but I don’t want to
bore you with a lot of details about people you don’t know, and don’t
really care about. It’s enough to say that we all feel that we’ve hit a
jackpot.
Finally, there’s me. I don’t have any real offers yet, or anything like
that, but I did get some really good notices—you’ll see when you read
them—and two producers have sent me nice notes asking me to come to see
them when I have time. But I did get one very important thing out of it
already. I have an agent!
That may not sound like much, but the good agents won’t even talk to a
beginning actress. I have been signed by N.A.R. (National Artists’
Representatives) and they’re nearly the biggest in the business! Randy
says that being signed by them is almost a guarantee of steady work, so
I guess I can really start to call myself an actress now! It’s a good
thing, too, because school is coming to an end, and unless I want to go
back to Rockport and college, I’m going to have to keep acting and
making a living at it.
Don’t misunderstand me, Jean. I have nothing against college. In fact, I
really miss it sometimes, the same way I miss you and a few of my other
good friends. But it just isn’t acting, and for me, nothing will ever be
as good as being on stage!
I wish you could come to New York next week with Mother and Dad when
they come to see the play, but I know how busy you are with school. If
we’re still running by summer, will you make the trip?
But of course we’ll still be running by summer!
We’ve got a hit! And we know it! and there’s nothing better than that!
More next time, from
Peggy
[Illustration: Endpapers]
[Illustration: Back cover]
PEGGY PLAYS OFF-BROADWAY
In the second book of a thrilling new series for girls, Peggy Lane,
aspiring young actress, takes her first important step up the ladder of
success. She lands a small part in Randy Brewster’s experimental play
_Come Closer_—a part she secretly suspects Randy wrote especially for
her.
Unknowns all, the cast is headed by lovely Paula Andrews, an inspiration
on stage but something of a problem otherwise. Hits don’t just happen
for an experimental group. They are created out of hardships and
disappointments. The show’s production is threatened with financial
difficulties, and everyone’s hopes now depend on the special
presentation they are to give for a prospective backer. When Paula, at
the last minute, backs out, Mal Seton, the director, blows up. Peggy, he
says, can have the part.
Peggy, knowing she is not yet ready for a leading role, proposes a
radical solution. Then, trying to help Paula, who appears tense and
troubled, Peggy inadvertently discovers a mystery that cannot be
unraveled until Peggy herself resolves a dilemma!
_Peggy Lane Theater Stories_
Peggy Finds the Theater
Peggy Plays Off-Broadway
Peggy Goes Straw Hat
Peggy on the Road
Transcriber’s Notes
--Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public
domain in the country of publication.
--In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the
HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)
--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and
dialect unchanged.
End of Project Gutenberg's Peggy Plays Off-Broadway, by Virginia Hughes