Stepping out of Luchow’s, leaving its noise, gaiety, and glitter behind, was once more like making a transition between worlds. Fourteenth Street, now almost deserted, looked even sadder and more run-down than before. The night lights in the windows of the closed shops cast baleful gleams on the pavement; the thin sound of a cheap dance band far off lent its sad jazz beat to the relatively quiet night. Peggy shivered a little in the first chill of autumn.
“It’s like two different cities, in there and out here,” she said. “It’s a shame, isn’t it, that the real one is out here?”
Catching her mood, Randy put a reassuring arm about her shoulders. “It’s two hundred different cities,” he said, “and the real one is wherever you happen to be at the moment. So let’s leave this one, to make it unreal, and go uptown. By the time we turn our backs on this, it will disappear.”
And it did disappear, or nearly, in the sophisticated decor and subdued harmonies of the St. Regis Roof. Randy was, as Peggy had suspected, a fine dancer. His lightness and his certainty helped her, and she knew that she had never danced so well before. But even as they floated about the gleaming floor, the sounds of the elegant music could not quite drown out the tinny jazz sound of Fourteenth Street that echoed in her mind.
No, she thought, Randy had not been altogether right. This beautiful room, these handsome, well-dressed people were not nearly so real as the world outside. And it was that world, in which she would start her search tomorrow, that stayed uppermost in her thoughts through the rest of the dreamlike night with its dancing, its carriage ride around the park and (or was this too a dream?) Randy’s gentle good-night kiss on the steps of the Gramercy Arms.
XIII
The Hidden City
When the list was completed, Peggy had found over forty theaters built since 1890 and not currently listed as theaters in the classified phone book. Now there was nothing to do except visit each one to see if it was still there at all, and if there, to see what it was being used for. Checking the addresses against her city map and street-number guide, Peggy listed those that she would visit first.
“I’ve started out with a group I think we can cover in one afternoon,” she explained to Amy. “And the district I’ve picked is not too far away from most of the off-Broadway theaters in Greenwich Village. I’d like it best if we could find a theater near where people are used to going, or at least in districts that are easy to get to by bus or subway.”
“Don’t worry too much about that,” Greta commented from the depths of an easy chair. “If you can just find a place to put on the play, and if the play is good, people will come. Even if they have to walk, or pay tremendous cab fares. That’s one wonderful thing about New York. People love the theater, and they’re willing to go through all kinds of hardships to see a good play.”
“The proof of that is the prices people pay to see a Broadway show,” Amy agreed. “Six and eight dollars a seat for some of them!”