Chuck smiled gratefully. “Well, if you’re sure—”
“Anything that’s Victorian?” Peggy asked as she collected her sides and pencil, dropping them into the large knitting bag she carried to rehearsals.
“Mike has the furniture and prop list up at the theater,” Chuck said. “I’d like you to keep an eye out for decoration. Knickknacks and pictures and maybe a statue—you know.”
“They shouldn’t be hard to find here,” Peggy called gaily as she left the annex. “These houses look as if they’re stuffed with Victorian antiques!”
“Thanks, Peggy.” The cast went back to rehearsal, and Peggy started up to the theater.
“We need a chaise longue, a desk, two tables, four straight chairs, two easy chairs, and a hall table plus extras.” Danny Dunn checked the list as Michael Miller turned the little blue jeep out of the school driveway and down the main road.
“Are you sorry not to be in Angel Street?” Peggy asked him. Danny would not be playing next week and had taken the job of stage-managing instead, giving Gus an opportunity to concentrate on the set alone.
“Not a bit!” Danny grinned. “You know I’ve played Sergeant Rough before, and although I enjoyed doing it, I felt I was a little young. It will be a real treat to see Howard Miller in the part. I think he’ll be fabulous!”
Peggy chuckled. Danny’s remarks were always liberally peppered with words like fabulous, terrific, fantastic, out of this world. Danny asked why she laughed and Peggy told him.
“Well,” he pronounced expansively, “the theater is a little bit out of this world—and I’m in the theater. So where am I?”