“No!” she cried. “No! I won’t! I won’t act in his house!”
A shocked silence gripped the room as everyone turned to stare at her.
“But, Paula, I don’t understand....” Mal began. “What does it matter if it’s in his house instead of in the theater? I think you’re being—”
“No!” she said again tensely. “You don’t understand. Of course you don’t. But”—she paused and looked about her in bewilderment—“I’m sorry,” she said abruptly, then turned and ran from the room.
Before Mal and Randy could recover their senses sufficiently to run after her, she had grabbed her coat from the startled cloakroom attendant and run down the stairs. They could hear her heels clattering more than a floor below.
Randy started after her, but Mal restrained him.
“No use, old chap,” he said. “I don’t know what’s got into her, but whatever it is, she’s not going to act tonight. And as far as I’m concerned,” he added grimly, “I don’t care if she never acts again. If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s temperament. Forget it. Peggy will do the role, and she’ll do it well.”
VI
Two Acts of Faith
Jittery though they all were after this startling experience, the audition went off with surprising smoothness. Sir Brian, a handsome gentleman with beautiful manners, received them cordially, allowed them to rearrange his drawing room, and made them feel thoroughly at home.