Randy and Mal came hurrying over to take the girls’ coats and to lead them into the room, which they showed off as if they owned it.
“This is just the lounge,” Randy said, waving his hand to indicate the laden table, the fine paneling, the handsome chandeliers. “Wait till you see the dining room!”
Leading Amy and Peggy to the other side of the little entry hall that separated the two rooms, Randy opened the door of the dining room to let them get an advance look. The room was dominated by the biggest circular table that any of them had ever seen—with ample room for place settings for fourteen. The center of the huge table was filled with a low floral centerpiece, punctuated by dozens of tall, thin candles.
The heavily beamed ceiling sloped sharply upward from a row of six dormer windows facing a courtyard. On the high wall opposite was an enormous fireplace whose blaze was reflected in the bright crystal and silver on the table.
Dazzled by the setting, the girls allowed themselves to be led back to the lounge to help themselves to appetizers. Giant cheeses of all shapes alternated with towering bowls of apples and oranges in the center of the table, while at the foot of these mountains were platters of smoked fish, caviar, sliced cheeses, spiced Italian ham sliced so thin as to be almost transparent, orderly rows of crackers, baskets of sliced bread and rolls, bunches of grapes, bowls of black and green olives, slivers of smoked turkey and brilliant platters of sliced tomatoes. And surrounding it all were the actors, airing their manners like the traditional strolling players invited to a baronial feast, behaving grandly as if they ate this way every day in the week!
Laughing at the sight, Peggy happily helped herself to some of the more exotic foods, wisely conserving her appetite. After all, if these were just the appetizers, whatever would dinner be like?
An hour and a half later, contentedly sighing as the waiter poured a second cup of coffee, Peggy was glad that she had saved a little appetite. Otherwise she might never even have tasted it all! Dinner, from the delicate clear soup, to the lobster Newburg, the tiny green peas with pearl onions, the crackling thin julienne potatoes, the crisp, herb-tinged salad, and the sweet-sour key lime pie, had been a sheer delight.
Now, while everyone was resting over coffee and quiet conversation, Randy stood up to speak. He tapped gently on his glass with a spoon, and the crystal rang like a clear, thin bell. The cast members turned their attention to him.
“I think that you would like to know now whom to thank for this wonderful dinner,” he said. “I’m allowed to tell you all at this point, because we’re going straight from here to his house for the reading. It seems that the gentleman has several other appointments, and can’t allow himself time to come down to the theater, but he does want to hear the reading, so we’re bringing the theater to him, from eight to nine-thirty. Now, not to keep you in suspense any longer, I’ll tell you his name: Sir Brian Alwyne, Special British Representative to the United Nations!”
A murmur of surprise went up around the table as the actors turned to each other to comment on this distinguished man’s interest in their play, and to speculate on the experience of acting in his home. But, looking from face to face, Peggy noted, with surprise, Paula’s peculiar expression. She had gone pale and white as the table linen, and her face was drawn. One hand, held to her mouth, was trembling. Suddenly she stood up, bunching the tablecloth in a tight grip.