“I’m not going to stop you,” Chuck called. “I’ll be taking notes and we’ll iron out the flaws later. Ready, Danny?”
“All set,” Danny affirmed, his hands on the curtain.
“All right then; make it a performance, everyone.”
The first half of Act One went well. Peggy had a very small part and was able to watch almost continuously from the wings. Chris was really sinister, she thought, shivering as she observed his scene with Alison. And Alison was wonderful. She was a little young to play Mrs. Manningham but her own personality had disappeared in the part, and she was completely believable.
“How I would love to play that part someday!” Peggy dreamed. “Or something like it. I wish I had just one dramatic part to do this summer!” She sighed as she thought of the season ahead—one comedy part after another.
Chris made his exit with a slam of the door, and Rita, as the housekeeper, came on to announce the arrival of Sergeant Rough. Peggy drew up a box near Gus at the switchboard, and leaned forward excitedly to watch. With his old-fashioned cape-coat and painstaking make-up, Howard Miller was the very picture of a Scotland Yard Inspector. Peggy tensed as the suspense mounted; even Gus at the lights was so engrossed in the play that he almost forgot to dim the lights at the right time.
“Gus,” Peggy whispered, “the lights! Gus, isn’t that your cue?”
He started, quickly dimmed the lights, and then shook his head sheepishly. “Thanks, Peggy!”
“I’m afraid you are married to a tolerably dangerous gentleman,” Sergeant Rough said to Mrs. Manningham, and as she stood there, slowly realizing his meaning, the curtain closed on Act One.
“House lights,” Chuck called. “Open the curtain, Danny, and everybody on stage.”