“Yes, I’ve grown some taller. I played Hamlet to your Ophelia. Then I wrote a play for you, but you got away without hearing it. Now I’ve written another for you. You can’t escape this time.”
“I won’t try to. I’m just dying to play it. What is it?”
A voice spoke in sternly: “Curtain’s going up. You ready, Miss Kemble?”
“Good Lord! Yes!” Then to Vickery. “I’ve got to fly. When can I see you, Mr. Bickerton?”
Reben solved the problem: “Got an engagement to supper?”
“Yes, but I’ll break it.”
“We’ll call for you.”
“Fine! Good-by, Mr.—Mr. Braywood!”
The door closed and Vickery turned away in such a whirl of elation that he almost walked into the scene where Tom Brereton was giving an unusually creditable performance, since Sheila was off the stage.