Torn seemed satisfied. “All right then,” he said. “I’ll be there. But, please, don’t let me down.”
Peggy took her hand away. “I won’t,” she said gently. “You can trust me.”
XII
Tom’s Tryout
The theater the next morning seemed full of old men, all of them there to try out for the part of the grandfather. Peggy arrived shortly before ten o’clock, and after scanning the rows of seats for Tom Agate, sank down in an aisle seat toward the back. Promptly at ten, Craig Claiborne began the auditions. The same bored assistant stage manager who had read with Peggy two days earlier took his place behind the plain table on stage and began to read with each candidate. Fortunately, it was the same scene Peggy had read with Tom the night before.
One after another, the old men trudged up to the stage and went through the lines that had now become so familiar to Peggy. Some were better than others, but all lacked the authority, the fire the part demanded.
At ten-thirty, just as Peggy was beginning to grow anxious, a tall figure dropped into the empty seat beside her. “Has he come yet?” It was Peter Grey and he seemed equally worried.
“No,” Peggy whispered. “Will they wait for him?”
Peter shook his head briefly. “I haven’t even told Mr. Stalkey he’s coming. I was afraid he wouldn’t show up.”
“How much longer do we have?”
“If he’s not here in the next half hour, we’ll have to give it up.”