“As if she could feel anything,” said Alwyn scornfully to his backer. “She is made of wood.”
At last Mr. Leahurst appeared. One morning he came mysteriously from the refreshment bar beyond the pit, walked down the central gangway to the orchestra, and returned again, with his hands clasped behind his back. Everyone fell silent, no one moved; it was as if waves of awe had begun to flow through stagnant air. One had a paralysing sensation of expectancy, one’s heart gave heavy beats.
“Don’t take any notice of me,” he said, walking backwards and forwards.
The rehearsal proceeded.
Then almost at once he recognized Miss Verinder in her stall next the gangway. He stopped short in his walk and nodded to her.
“Well, how goes it?”
“I really think it is shaping all right,” said Emmie.
“No, I don’t mean the play. Yourself.”
“Oh, very well, thank you.”
“Move up one, will yer?”