In point of sober fact, Nolan was enjoying himself tremendously, though to have admitted as much, even to his private conscience, would have spoiled the fun entirely. He couldn't possibly have been having such a good time if he hadn't been in such a vile temper.
Up to the moment of Lucinda's appearance, he had been whiling away the Wait by delivering a monologue of spontaneous generation, a discourse having for its subject the habits of stars in general and of self-made feminine stars in especial, studiously impersonal in phrasing but mordant of wit, and delivered with an air of gentle and melancholy detachment which took no perceptible account of the snickerings of his henchmen and the ill-hidden smiles of actors who, in the absence of Lucinda, were hazarding no guesses as to which side their bread was buttered on.
As Lucinda drew near, Nolan hoisted himself out of the basket-chair in which he had been lounging, with something more than a suggestion of limbs cramped by prolonged inactivity, and bowed politely, too politely.
But Lucinda was feeling much too kindly minded toward all the world, that morning, to resent his nonsense, though by no means unaware of its cause and aim. And with every intention of keeping the peace she returned a brief but good-natured nod and smile.
"Sorry if I've kept you waiting, Mr. Nolan, but I had some business with Mr. Lontaine we couldn't put off."
"No matter at all, Miss Lee, I assure you—no matter a-tall! My time is yours, the company's time is yours, all the time there is is yours, to use or waste, just as you think best."
Lucinda couldn't very well let offensiveness so pointed pass without comment. She stopped, turned squarely to face Nolan, with a keen smile, looked him deliberately up and down, a movement of shoulders summing up clearly enough the substance of her impressions.
"Thank you for telling me," she said sweetly. "And now that is understood, suppose we try to make up for the time I've wasted, if possible, by getting to work at once...."
The only retort that occurred to Nolan as at all appropriate he felt instinctively to be inadequate in point of elegance; so he judiciously refrained from uttering it. And anyhow, the day was young yet, his hour would come.
"Fair enough," he agreed with a passable display of good spirit. "Le's go to it, then." He approached the set on which two cameras stood trained at close range, with Klieg lights focussed. "Now, Miss Lee, I'll just line in what I want of you this scene."