“Oh, no!” Paula said. “My family ... I haven’t any family. I mean, I’m an orphan. My parents are dead, and I haven’t anyone else. I’ve been supporting myself for a long time, and I’m used to it.”
“Well, then,” Peggy said firmly, “I’m going to have to be your family, and you’ll have to accept help from me. I would say that you’ll need about fifty dollars a week to add to what you earn—at least until we get to be a hit, if we do. And since you haven’t anybody else, you’ll have to let me get it for you.”
“Oh, no, I can’t let you do that, Peggy!” Paula protested. “I know that you haven’t got that kind of money, and besides, I ... I don’t want any help. I can take care of myself. I want to take care of myself!”
Peggy sat down on the edge of the bed and took Paula’s hand. “I can understand the way you feel,” she said, “but that’s a foolish kind of pride. Everybody wants to think they’re taking care of themselves, but really nobody does. Before your parents died, they took care of you. They fed you and clothed you and taught you to walk and talk. If somebody hadn’t taken care of you then, you wouldn’t have lived to want to take care of yourself. As we grow up, we take care of ourselves more and more, but we’re never completely on our own. Everybody needs someone else. That’s what friends are for. And you’ve got to let me be your friend.”
Paula’s eyes filled with tears. “I suppose you’re right, Peggy. It is just foolish pride, and you’re so good to talk to me this way and to want to help me. But ... what I said before. I know you can’t afford it!”
“Of course I can’t,” Peggy said. “But I’ve got friends—and many of them are your friends, too, and I intend to ask them. I’m going to talk to all the members of the cast who have jobs, and to the girls who live at the Gramercy Arms, and we’ll get up a group to help you out. That way it won’t cost anyone more than three or four dollars a week, which we won’t miss too much.”
“Oh, Peggy, that’s so good of you,” Paula said, “but I feel so ashamed to take your money!”
“Think how ashamed we’d feel,” Peggy said, “if we weren’t able to help you. And besides, we’re not doing it just for you. We’re doing it for the play. We need you in the play. There’s nobody else who can do the Alison part the way you can ... and even if there were, it would be too late now for a cast substitution. No, it’s your part, and it’s our play, and we have to keep you in good condition to do it. It’s a difficult enough role to play even if you’re well-fed, and I just don’t believe you can do it if you’re half-starved. Now I don’t want to hear another word about it except ‘yes.’”
Paula’s smile was stronger now, between spoonfuls of soup. She looked up, her eyes still wet, and softly said, “Yes. Thanks.”
“Good. That’s settled,” Peggy said. “Now, would you like some tea and toast? The doctor said not to give you more than this to eat tonight, no matter how hungry you said you felt. No. No butter. He said dry toast, but I suppose you can dunk it in the tea, if you like.”