“And as for Lord Wellingmay,” he dramatically recited, “let him beware. I am not the man to——” He stopped so abruptly as to cause a titter to run through the audience, who, up to this point had listened, spellbound.
Tanner had picked up the frame at this critical moment and noticed the photograph.
Klein, waiting in the doorway for his cue, felt his pulse quicken. The sight of the photograph—Delmar’s photograph—had caused Tanner to hesitate!
The wait grew longer. Fearful of the delay, and aware that his entrance might set the dialogue moving once more, Klein stepped through the door.
“A visitor, Mr. Lemly!” he announced stiffly.
Klein’s line apparently brought Tanner back to earth again, and with a peculiar frown he turned and took up his cue.
While they were waiting for Metcalfe to enter, Klein spoke aside to Tanner in the way that is quite common on the stage, and which is often done, although the audience has no idea how much private conversation goes on among the actors during a play.
“What made you go up in the air?” he asked—and all the time a voice whispered in his ear: “Tanner’s the man! Tanner’s the man! His actions have proved it!”
Tanner, meanwhile, was fumbling nervously at his collar.
“I guess it—it was my nerves,” he answered. “I’ve been pounding too hard on the next week’s part. It’s frightfully warm here, isn’t it?”