Marion Marlowe Entrapped, or, The Victim of Professional Jealousy — page 5: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

* enveloped in darkness, MY QUEEN. 3 ly; “but, by the way, what is the beautiful Ila’s right name? ’Pon honor, Clayte, I'll never tell it.”’ “Her name is Marion Marlowe, manager’s answer, “but, of course, for busi- >] was the a b ness purposes, we shall stick to ‘Tla. CHAPTER IT. A JEALOUS WOMAN. The audience had dispersed and the audi- torium of the great Broadway Theatre was but Carlotta, the prima donna of the company, was still pac- _. ing back and forth in her disordered dress- ing-room. She was a Seat. woman, of the ripe, sensual type. Her eyes were wide and far apart, like a panther’s; her nose aquiline, and her lips red and voluptuous. As she walked excitedly back and forth she threw her gaudy garments aside, leaving only a trailing skirt of rich white silk and a bodice of lace fall- ing low on her shoulders. “What do you mean by it, anyway? Am I to be eclipsed entirely? Is Carlotta to be - put in the background and sneered at by the people, while that little country girl is stand- ing in the calcium ?” She turned as she spoke and faced a heav- ily-built man, who sat on a trunk in one cor- ner, gazing calmly at her frenzy. “Answer me, Clayte Graham!”’ she almost screamed. “What do you mean by showing so much preference to that country snip?” The man shrugged his shoulders before he E answered. He was growing weary of his prima donna’s anger. "1 believe I am the manager of this com- pany, Miss Thompson,” he said, calmly, “and so long as I hold. that position I shall try to fill it, and one part of my duty is to select my singers.” “ “And why have you selected her, I should like to know ?” cried the woman. “She is as green as grass and her voice has never had an hour of training.” “City people like grass,” “and as for training—her voice was his tantaliz- ing’ answer, don’t need it.” “Oh, of course you'll stick up for her! I expected it!” was the furious answer. “But Pll not put up with it! Do you hear me, Clayte Graham?” Again the man shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her calmly. “What will you do about it, Miss Tem- per?” he asked, very coolly. “You certainly will not be so foolish as to break your con- ract?”’ “Oh, I know what you mean,” cried the ; “T can’t sign another for two years without your permission. No Oh, yes, I woman, more wildly. manager would dare engage me. understand you.” “Well, you’ll understand me better before I am done with you,” said the manager, em- phatically, “for I’ll make Marion Marlowe a famous singer yet—so famous that people will forget that they ever listened toa croaker like Carlotta.” “That’s it!” shrieked the woman, who had now grown livid. “That’s right, Clayte Gra- ham. Heap your sneers and slurs upon me! I have made money for you for-years in more ways than one—but now that my voice is failing you throw me over.” ~ You have brought it on yourself, Carlotta, with your fiendish jealousy,” said the man, more gently. In an instant the woman was on her knees before him, the tears streaming over her painted face and her voice» quivering with emotion. “Oh, Clayte, Clayte, don’t you know it is because I-love you! Don’t you know that there is nobody else in this world for me but you, and yet you reproach and abuse me for being jealous!” Connmcooolkks GO