Once, when she was still new in New York, she had made the mistake of trying to explain all this to a very serious young man who was a second-year student at a nearby college. The young man had stared at her uncomfortably for a moment, then changed the subject. But Peggy wasn’t disturbed. She was fond of her own version, even though she knew it was hopelessly romantic.
Well, why not? Half-lying on the bed with her feet stuck into what was now a lukewarm basin of water, she was convinced that she was right and he was wrong. She thought of the young man’s earnest face and broke into a grin. Despite herself she laughed out loud.
The cheerful sound filled the darkening room. Paddling her feet happily in the water, she threw her head back against the pillow and sighed a third time.
“What a life!” She breathed ecstatically. Suddenly full of vitality again, she sat up and leveled a pair of clear hazel eyes over the city, now throbbing with the muted sounds of early evening traffic. “New York,” she announced in a grave voice to the open window and empty room, “you don’t care about me right now. You’ve never even heard of me. But some day you will. You’ll see!”
It was quite a dramatic speech for her to make, but then Peggy Lane was very young and very determined to become a great actress.
Outside her window, the city took the news of Peggy’s intended conquest calmly. Somewhere a lone taxicab gave a derisive toot on its horn as it squealed to a stop to pick up a fare. Peggy mentally stuck out her tongue at the driver and settled back to make plans for tomorrow. But before she could get really comfortable, an enthusiastic spatter of applause came from the doorway.
“I declare, honey,” drawled a familiar voice, “that’s the prettiest speech I ever did hear. You always talk to yourself in the dark like that?”
Light flooded the room, and Peggy saw her friend, Amy Shelby Preston, framed in the door. Amy, a striking ash blonde and a product of Pine Hollow, North Carolina, had been pulled to New York by the same magnet that had drawn Peggy. The two girls had met on their first day in the city, liked each other on sight, and decided to room together this year.
Peggy struggled to a sitting position and blushed furiously. “I—I was just going over some lines for a play,” she explained lamely.
Amy flashed her a knowing smile as she went over to a tiny sink hidden from the rest of the room by a Japanese screen. “What’s the name of the play?” she asked. “Stage-Struck?”