“And for me,” Tom said softly.
Before Peggy could answer, Mr. Fox was back. “Curtain going up,” he whispered urgently. “Quiet, please!”
Katherine Nelson detached herself from the shadows, straightened her skirt, and stepped up for her entrance. She turned and looked at Peggy and Tom, gave them a quick wink, and pushed open the door. The applause in the theater thundered out when the audience recognized her.
Peggy hardly remembered the first act. Her lines came automatically and she was too excited to know whether it was going well or badly. By the second act, that feeling had passed and she was beginning to wonder. Her big scene—the one with Tom—was coming up, and as she took her position behind the familiar door, she had the same sensation of nervous fear she had had the day she first tried out for Craig Claiborne.
The lights dimmed and Peggy knew it was time. With a trembling hand she pushed open the door and looked out over the semi-darkened stage. A lone figure was slumped in the chair by the fireplace. Peggy tip-toed into the room, went over to the window, looked out and sighed.
“‘Why did you come in so quietly?’” Tom said. “‘You’re as furtive as a lady burglar tonight. What’s wrong?’”
“‘Oh!’” Peggy gasped. “‘I didn’t know anybody was here.’”
“‘I’ll go if you like,’” came Tom’s reply.
Peggy moved over to him. “‘Oh, no! Please don’t! There’s—there’s something I want to talk to you about....’”
Suddenly all the nervousness, the worry, vanished. It was all right. Peggy could feel it and, even more important, she knew the audience could feel it too.