“Randy Brewster!” Peggy cried, “Randy—of all people! Well, how on earth—why—how did you—oh, Randy!” She was so excited and pleased that she stuttered.
“I loved the show,” Randy declared happily, hugging her, “and I was so surprised to see you down here at the Manor! I thought I’d have to wait to surprise you up at the theater.”
“Oh, Chris,”—Peggy remembered him—“I’d like you to meet a very dear friend of mine—I met him when I started in dramatic school. This is Randy Brewster—Chris Hill.”
“How nice,” Chris said shortly, his exuberance gone.
“I certainly enjoyed your performance,” Randy congratulated him. “Very funny. You have a lot of vitality. Hope I’ll do as well here—”
“Oh,” Peggy exclaimed with sudden understanding, “is that why you’re here? The Manor hired you?”
“Yep,” Randy said. “I’ll be here for a week doing a new comedy routine. I hope we’ll be able to see each other often. I was so pleased, Peggy, knowing you’d be in the neighborhood.” He grinned at her with that funny, warm, crooked smile that Peggy remembered so well.
“I’m coming to see your opening day after tomorrow,” Randy went on. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything. I’m glad that I’ll be here while you’re playing a lead.”
“Are you familiar with the play?” Chris interrupted suddenly.
“No,” Randy said with a smile, “but that will make it even more fun.”