“He won’t steal this one,” said Joe and followed the girl out.
Studio B was dark. Stella turned on lights. The sound engineer’s equipment was already in place. A clock in the control-room told them they had an hour to wait. Bert Farr arrived and was followed by two minor characters.
A page opened the door from the gallery. “Mr. Wylie wants a cast report.”
“All ready,” said Stella.
The afternoon they had given the Munson audition, with listeners in chairs along the walls, chairs and people had seemed to hem them in closely. This afternoon, with only the cast of five present, Studio B was a yawning cavern. Joe felt swallowed up, shrunken, and small. Had the clock stopped? Nervous, he took script from his pocket.
“Don’t do that,” Stella warned. “You’re perfect in the part. You’ll confuse yourself.”
Bert Farr said: “Four o’clock. Vic’s other show’s on.”
Half an hour more! In reception-hall, corridors, elevators, and lobby the Vic Wylie show was coming out of FKIP speakers. Here there was only silence.
The sound engineer arrived. An announcer strolled in and walked about, looking bored.
“The other show’s off,” said Farr.