His smile gave me courage, and I answered truthfully: "Well, I think I'm a little scared just now."
"Scared? What of?" He removed his cigar while he spat out an end he had been chewing. Then he lighted a match and continued talking. "You don't want to be scared of me—I'm the easiest thing you ever saw...." Here he winked at me. Then for the next minute he puffed at his cigar and looked at me. "Stand up," was his next injunction.... "You're not very big ... you'll look the part all right."
"What kind of a part is it?" I ventured.
"Didn't Tom tell you about it?... It's a pretty part—one of them innocent country maidens that never saw the streets of Cairo—that kind. She falls in love with a villain who takes her to the great city, and then throws her down—hard. The poor girl's afraid to go back to home and mother, and just as she's about to commit suicide a good-natured sucker comes along and marries her. It's sympathetic and appealin'—goes right to the heart. Can't help but make a hit. Dressin' ain't much, and we expect to run all season in New York."
"What's the salary?" meaning to appear business-like.
"Twenty-five in New York, and thirty on the road."
I did not reply, for my mind was making rapid calculations. Twenty-five dollars a week, with the prospect of running all season in New York! Why, I should be able to pay my own expenses and lay aside a little besides.
"That's a good salary," began the manager, taking my silence for dissent. "If you make a hit, I'll raise it five. I tell you what I'll do: I'll give you a letter to the stage manager. They're rehearsing now. The dame we engaged for the part, way last summer, got married on the quiet, and has got to retire for family reasons." He winked at me again, as he took up his pen. I waited uneasily while he wrote. "Here's the letter," he said, moistening the flap of the envelope with his lips. "Now, run along and see Mr. Thompson at the Academy. He's the doctor." He rose by way of dismissal, and indicated a door other than which I had entered. I thanked him and assured him my voice was quite strong.
"You're a pretty little thing," he said as he accompanied me to the door. "Pretty little figure ... what d'ye weigh?"
"I don't know really how much, but I think about one hundred and ten pounds," I answered with some confusion.