"Got a photo of yourself in fleshings?"
"Not here. Plenty at my agent's—Stannard's."
"All right. Name, please. Next."
The girl in black was next. Her heart beat uncomfortably fast as she moved down. Had she to pitch her voice to fill that gaping void across the footlights? She shrank from singing to these blasé-looking men who gave the impression of damning before they heard. Then she saw that Maggy was still standing by the table and nodding encouragingly to her. It gave her heart. She handed her song to the pianist and commenced to sing.
"Louder, please," said some one.
She sang louder and lost her nervousness. It was not so difficult to fill that huge auditorium, after all. So far, she was the only one of them that had been allowed to sing her song half through.
"Shouldn't mind hearing the rest of that another day," said the stage-manager, stopping her at last. "Not half bad, my dear. Name, please."
She gave her name, Alexandra Hersey.
"What have you been in?" came the query.
Before she could answer Maggy chimed in.