| “‘We are only like dead walls or vaulted graves!’” |
“And do not forget the ‘heavy’ in your piece!” called 82 out Hawkes across the table. “Something you can dig your teeth in!”
“Nor the ‘juvenile lead,’” chimed in the Celtic Adonis.
“Adonis makes a great hit in a small part,” laughed Kate, appearing at the door. “‘My lord, the carriage is waiting!’”
“My lady, your tongue is too sharp!” exclaimed Adonis, nettled.
“And put in a love scene for Adonis and myself,” she continued, lazily floating into the room. “He is so fond of me, it would not be like acting!”
This bantering was at length interrupted by the appearance of the chariot and the property wagon at the front door, ready for the journey. The rumbling of the vehicles, the resounding hoofs and the resonant voice of the stable boy awakened the young lord of the manor in his chamber above. He stretched himself sleepily, swore and again composed himself for slumber, when the noise of a property trunk, thumping its way down the front stairs a step at a time, galvanized him into life and consciousness.
“Has the world come to an end?” he muttered. “No; I remember; it’s only the players taking their departure!”
But, although he spoke carelessly, the bumping of boxes and slamming and banging of portable goods annoyed him more than he would confess. With the “crazy-quilt”––a patch-work of heptagons of different hues and patterns––around his shoulders, clothing him 83 with all the colors of the rainbow, he sat up in bed, wincing at each concussion.
“I might as well get up!” he exclaimed. “I’ll see her once more––the perverse beauty!” And tossing the kaleidoscopic covering viciously from him, he began to dress.