“Nine-thirty,” the director answered.
“Nine-thirty,” Stalkey said. “Be at the Elgin Theater at nine-thirty tomorrow morning to read a scene from Innocent Laughter. Is that clear?”
Peggy nodded numbly. “Yes, sir,” she said.
“Good.” Stalkey went over to the door and threw it open. “Thank you very much,” he said briskly. “That’ll be all for now.”
Peggy gathered her purse and gloves, made her way unsteadily to the door, passed down a double line of curious, envying stares, and finally found herself outside by the elevator door. As she waited for it, she wondered if she could get back to the Gramercy Arms without screaming for joy. She had passed the first test.
IV
“Innocent Laughter”
“Ground floor.”
The elevator bumped to a halt and discharged its load of passengers into the busy lobby. Still numb from the half hour she had spent in Oscar Stalkey’s office, Peggy allowed herself to be pulled along by the crowd that surged toward the building entrance.
The big clock above the main doors registered a little after eleven—too early for lunch and too late to make any more appointments for the morning. Peggy idly wondered what to do next. Her first impulse had been to go directly to the Gramercy Arms with the news. But Amy was out and May was probably busy. Besides, at eleven o’clock on a weekday morning, the big house would be almost deserted. The girls nearly all were on jobs or were out busily hunting them.
Suddenly, Peggy felt strangely lonely. The need for someone to talk to became overwhelming. She paused by the public telephone booths near the revolving door and thought of calling home to Rockport, Wisconsin. She could almost hear her mother at the other end of the line, excited and happy to hear the good news. It would be good to hear her familiar voice again.