“How can I? Look at me! I’m dull as a rainstorm, my head feels like a block of wood, and my feet are like lead. Wouldn’t I be in nice shape to go on before a house? Time I did it twice, Haley’d fire me, and he wouldn’t be to blame.”
“But isn’t there anything else——”
“Nope. Got to use the same old stuff till the season’s over anyhow.”
“But it’s getting an awful hold on you, Cassie.”
Hard lines formed round her mouth—a mouth that had once been rather sweet and pretty.
“Can’t help it,” she said, grimly. “It wasn’t my fault in the first place, and I’ve got to live. All summer there won’t be nothing for me to do, and I must stick the season out, so as to have something saved up for hot weather. I tell you, this life ain’t what it’s cracked up to be. A girl that’s got a good home and wants to go on the stage is a fool. She don’t know when she’s well off.”
Frank nodded his conviction that this was true. He had not seen much of theatrical life, but already he was convinced that it was a hard life to follow, especially for a girl.
“I was brought up to it,” Cassie went on; “and that was just my hard luck. Never had no good chance to get an education.”
“You can educate yourself now.”
She shook her head slowly.