“All right,” Claiborne called. “Any time.”
The door opened slowly, and Miss Palmers was revealed leaning languorously against the frame. Keeping her eyes fixed on some distant point in space, she stepped on stage and floated over to the window. Collecting herself, she arched her back and breathed a tiny bored sigh.
“‘Why did you come in so quietly?’” read the faithful Mr. Fox. “‘You’re as furtive as a lady burglar tonight. What’s wrong?’”
Miss Palmers gave a little pout of surprise and turned to regard him coldly. “‘Ahh,’” she drawled. “‘I didn’t know anybody was here.’”
“‘I’ll go if you like,’” came the answering line, as the scene got under way for the second time.
Miss Palmers lasted a little longer than Miss Forrester before she too was dismissed. The third girl was allowed to read the entire scene. Peggy saw she was a good, competent actress. Claiborne even worked with her on some of the lines.
The fourth candidate was banished before she could read two lines. She departed from the stage looking thoroughly defeated—as if this sort of thing happened to her all the time.
Both of the next two girls read well. Peggy noticed they had bright, attractive personalities which shone especially when they came to the laugh lines. It would be her turn soon. She only hoped that Randy was right in his diagnosis of the scene. She was determined to play it with tenderness.
Peggy was jolted back to reality by Craig Claiborne’s voice calling, “Miss Lane. Miss Peggy Lane, please.”
Peggy lifted herself out of her seat and walked down the aisle on rubbery legs. Suddenly her throat became as dry as a lump of cotton wool. But somehow she managed to get on stage, take the script from Mr. Fox, and move through the door.