“Of course it’ll play closer to-night,” said one of the company. “And they’ll be a little quicker with the changes. Or it’s to be hoped they will.”
“That limelight man is a bit of a jay,” said the Demon King gloomily. “Would he follow me with that spot? Not he. And when I was singing my song, the fool was jigging it all over the stage like a damned rocket. His mate was better with you, Miss O’Finn.”
“He was on me all right,” Nancy allowed. “But he ruined the last verse of my first song by letting it fizz till I could have knocked him off his perch with my wand.”
“I think our trap-act went great, old boy,” said the Policeman to the Clown. “I’ve never known a trap-act go so smooth the first time. The house was eating it.”
Bram nodded.
“Yes, it went all right,” he admitted without enthusiasm. “But that star didn’t seem to me to be working properly again. Which reminds me, I must get hold of Worsley and tell him to have a look at it.”
“Who wants Worsley?” inquired the stage-manager, coming into the dressing-room at that moment.
“It was about that star-trap, old man,” said Bram.
“Now, that’s all right, old chap. Don’t you worry. I’ve been down under the stage, and it’s working to rights now. Lovely.”
“I thought I wasn’t coming through this afternoon,” Bram grumbled.