“Anything at all,” the producer declared expansively. “You name it.”
“I’d like to read the scene with Miss Lane.”
Oscar Stalkey shot a quick glance at Peggy and turned back to Tom. “Sure thing, Tom,” he said, putting his hand on the old actor’s shoulder. “When do you want to start?”
Tom smiled. “Might as well get it over with,” he declared. “Peggy?” he said questioningly. “Are you ready?”
Peggy nodded and stood up. The three of them walked slowly down to the edge of the stage where Oscar Stalkey made hurried introductions. A few moments later, Peggy found herself back behind the door waiting for Craig Claiborne’s cue. Two days ago she had been so frightened that she could hardly move. But now all that had vanished. It was a calm and confident Peggy who pushed open the door when Craig Claiborne gave the word.
Peggy moved effortlessly through the lines, feeling every pause and groping for exactly the right intonation on every phrase, every word. The big theater was hushed as the white-haired veteran and the newcomer built slowly but surely to the moving climax. But Peggy didn’t notice any of that. Except for the small circle of light that was the playing area, the world ceased to exist, She didn’t even stop to think that she was playing a scene from Broadway’s biggest hit play on the stage of one of New York’s most famous theaters. For the past few years she had dreamed of doing this, but now that the day had arrived, she was so caught up in the powerful emotions of acting that it never once occurred to her that her dreams had suddenly turned into reality.
The scene slowly drew to a close as Peggy knelt beside Tom. Just as on the night before, she could feel his hand gently stroking her hair. The two of them held their positions for maybe half a minute and then Peggy scrambled to her feet, wondering how things had gone. The first hint came when she glanced over at the wings to see three or four stagehands grouped silently beyond the ropes that operated the front curtain. Mr. Fox, the assistant stage manager, was still sitting behind his table, looking like a man hypnotized. No one moved.
Then from the seats out front Peggy heard someone blow his nose. The next instant Mr. Stalkey came leaping up the steps, his eyes suspiciously bright.
“Tom,” he said, coming directly to the point, “will you take the part?”
Tom blinked and stood up. “Are you really sure?” he asked. “Sure you want me?”