“I haven’t got a television set,” Peggy answered, “though I guess I could find one to watch, but I’d like to do more than look in on this via TV. Is there anything I could do to help with the show?”
“Well....” Mal began doubtfully, “we’re almost all cast for it now, and the few parts that are open aren’t exactly your type—”
“Oh, no!” Peggy said. “I didn’t mean to ask for a part! Why, I’m just beginning here, and I don’t think I’d be good enough at all! No, I meant that if you need an extra pair of hands to make costumes, or to paint flats or to sell space in the theater program, I’m volunteering. I’ll run errands, or—”
“Me, too!” Amy put in. “Can you use a pair of maids-of-all-work?”
“We sure can!” Connie said eagerly. “That’s the hardest kind of people to find. I’m certainly glad that Pip thought to ask you two to lunch!”
Mal looked quite relieved to find that he was not to be put in the position of having to refuse more actresses. Since word about the project had first gotten out around the Academy, he had been besieged with students who wanted to be in it, and the work of casting and at the same time not hurting the feelings of friends had been pretty difficult.
As they strolled back to the Academy, Mal told the girls that there was to be a meeting of the theater group that evening at Connie’s apartment, and invited them to attend. “I know that everybody will be glad to meet you, and you’ll get a chance to read the play and to find out what we’re up against in trying to produce it.”
After leaving their new friends in the school corridor, Amy and Peggy went off to their first elocution class, feeling as if they were really a part of the Academy and the new life around them, and looking forward eagerly to the meeting at Connie’s that night.
IX
Theater Party
Connie’s apartment was not the easiest place to find, but she had given detailed instructions, even to drawing a little map on a paper napkin, and after only a few wrong turnings, Peggy and Amy found themselves that night at a low pink door set in a high brick wall on a winding street in Greenwich Village. They pushed the button marked “Barnes-Lewis,” and soon an answering buzz let them know that the door was unlocked.