As she watched, the house lights began to dim, and the floods came up brightly. An expectant hush came over the audience. She felt a hand on her arm, and turned to see Dick Murphy, looking comically stern. He silently gestured with a nod of his head, to indicate that it was time for her to leave the stage. She took her place in the wings with the other waiting actors. They were silent and outwardly calm, but she could feel the tension in all of them.
A little behind them, seated on a suitcase that she would carry in with her, was Paula, wearing an expression that gave away nothing.
“Okay,” she heard Dick Murphy say. “Places!”
Alan Douglas and Betsy Crane stepped out onto the empty stage and sat in two widely separated lounge chairs. Alan spread his newspaper to read, and Betsy began to knit.
“Curtain!” Murphy said.
And the play was on.
XVI
Act Two
“I was awful! I just know I was awful!” Peggy moaned. “I never felt so stiff and scared in my life! I think I must have walked like a mechanical doll! Oh, Greta!”
“You were fine,” Greta said. “I mean it. You know I’m too good a friend to lie to you. You were as natural as....”
“And I muffed two lines!” Peggy went on, as if she hadn’t even heard Greta.