“Night is best. And what other hour could one be sure of? There is Marjory Dean. She must see it. And we must find Angelo.”
“Angelo? Have you seen him?”
“Not for months. He went to New York to make his fortune.”
Angelo, as you will recall, was the youthful dreamer who had created a fascinating light opera role for Jeanne.
“But only two days ago,” Jeanne went on, “I heard that he had been seen here in the city.”
“Here? Why does he not give us a ring?”
“Who knows?” Jeanne shrugged. “For all that, I will find him. He must come.
“And to think!” She did a wild fling across the room. “We are to see the magic curtain. We will weave an opera about it. The opera shall be played on that so grand stage.”
“By whom?”
Jeanne did not hesitate. “By Marjory Dean! She will have the leading role. I shall insist. And why not? Would she not do so much for me? Truly. And more, much more!