Milly stood in front of the bathroom door. Ellen caught the jetty glance of her eyes far apart in her blank white face. “I’m afraid you cant Harry, it’s out of order.”
“I’ll go over to Charley’s.... I’ll tell Thompson to have a plumber come and look at it.... Well good night kid. Be good.”
“Good night Miss Oglethorpe,” said Mr. Fallik creakily, “and if you cant be good be careful.” Milly closed the door after them.
“Whee, that’s a relief,” cried Ellen and stretched out her arms.
“I tell you I was scared deary.... Dont you ever let any feller like that come to the theater with ye. I’ve seen many a good trouper ruined by things like that. I’m tellin ye because I’m fond of you Miss Elaine, an I’m old an I know about the showbusiness.”
“Of course you are Milly, and you’re quite right too ... Lets see if we can wake him up.”
“My God Milly, look at that.”
Stan was lying as they had left him in the bathtub full of
water. The tail of his coat and one hand were floating on top of the water. “Get up out of there Stan you idiot.... He might catch his death. You fool, you fool.” Ellen took him by the hair and shook his head from side to side.
“Ooch that hurts,” he moaned in a sleepy child’s voice.