"Walk!" he announced with an inimitable gesture of tolerant contempt; and went back to his chair. Not a line of his face had changed. He sat down, nodded to the leading woman.
"All right, Mary," he said; and to another actor: "Now, the cue for Sylvia, please!"
Joan shivered a little.
Matthias did not come in until after the girl had finished her part in the afternoon rehearsal. She caught sight of him in the darkened auditorium just as she went off; and hurried from the house in tremulous dread.
But a meeting was inevitable; and that evening, just before the dinner hour, found her reluctantly knuckling the door of the back-parlour. The voice of Matthias bade her enter, and she drew upon all her scant store of courage as she turned the knob. To her immense relief he was not alone. Rideout and Moran, the scene painter, were in consultation with Matthias over two small model stages set with painted pasteboard scenery.
Matthias greeted her with a preoccupied smile and nod.
"Oh, good evening, Miss Thursday. More 'script, eh? Thank you."
Silently Joan gave him the manuscript and left the room. But the door had no sooner closed than it was re-opened and again closed. She turned to face this dreaded crisis.
His smile was friendly and pleasant if a trace uncertain. He made as if to offer his hand, and thought better of it.
"Oh, Miss Thursday.... I sent you a note...."