“Do you hear, Glass-Eye?” she said, calling her maid to witness. “You’re to box my ears if you catch me at it again!”
The thought of having to handle that delicate machine increased Lily’s importance in her own eyes. She had noticed that Poland, apart from an inordinate love of champagne suppers, had very nice manners: Lily would profit by her example and become more refined; she would show Pa and Ma the kind of Lily they had lost and she would crush them with the amount of her salary! She would earn more by herself than the whole troupe. She would let them know it, even if she had to do the trick for nothing, for glory, to see her Ma beg her pardon on her knees! She had recovered all the pride of her eighteen years, all her freshness, in a day: the touch of bitterness about her lips had changed into a smile. It would have taken very little more to make her dance for joy. But she restrained herself, dared not believe in her happiness; and she was quite decided not to accept anything from Jimmy before earning it. It was bad enough to owe him that thousand marks. She made herself a nice practising dress and spent the morning in bed reading a novel of fashionable life, of which the heroine was called Lily, like herself! And she, too, would become a society-girl, just to show them, damn it! But, suddenly, catching herself at fault, she laughed and asked Glass-Eye for a box on the ear; and a desperate pillow-fight ensued, in which they indulged whole-heartedly, like two regular tom-boys who loved to wrestle and punch each other. And it put her in a good humor for the rest of the day. She went shopping through the windows, only bought herself a spray of roses to fasten to her bodice. She went to the Astrarium, walked in as though the place belonged to her, followed by her maid. She examined the works with the eye of an expert. Three days, three days more and she would begin to rehearse! Her legs were itching to commence!
The alterations to the stage especially interested her. The door of the cage remained closed and Lily looked at the auditorium:
“Is it possible, after all?” she thought.
And she measured the distance with her eye. It seemed enormous to her, but never mind, she’d do it! And she grew wildly enthusiastic in the midst of all that activity, of a theater which was being rearranged for her: “For me, Glass-Eye! All of it for me! From here,” she said, stamping her foot on the stage, “from here to right up there!” And she pointed to the hole in the sky. “All that on the bike! A somersault miles high!”
OLD MARTELLO
Glass-Eye opened two terrified eyes, wondered if Lily was going mad....
Glass-Eye had become dulled through constant obedience, had lost her memory, mixed up her yeses and noes, like those actors who forget their parts through playing them too frequently; her recent life had excited her too much, and never a sou in her pocket, only barely enough to eat ... it was ten times worse than in Rathbone Place.... And then that new crotchet of Lily’s.
“Can I fly, Glass-Eye, or can’t I? Am I a bird or am I not?” It was enough to make Glass-Eye lose her head....