Marion Marlowe's Escape, or, A Dangerous Mistake on the Road — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

6 MY QUEEN. “Oh, I just tremble to think of it!” cried Miss Allyn, holding up both hands. ‘Do, Bert, please get me a drink of water! Just tancy ! we are due at seven-forty-five and the curtain rises at eight. Why, it’s just rushing on to doom with one’s eyes wide open! The very thought of facing an audience sends the cold chills down my back! Can’t you sympa- thize with my feelings a little, doctor?” “I can, indeed!” said Dr. Brookes, laugh- ingly. “For a man whose steady hand has wielded bone-saws and scalpels successfully, I seem to have degenerated to a numbskull Oh, I expect the Strain of this experiment will bring me down I shall go back to New York a wreck after my month’s vaca- that is shaking with palsy! in sorrow to my grave! tion!” “Thanks!” said Miss Allyn, calmly. “That — Once let me feel that some member of the company, even though makes me feel better! he be the villain, shares my misery, and I shall find the courage to do and dare, to scorn the ignominy of base defeat, and, in the transports of genius hitherto unguessed, per- haps I shall even mount the ladder of fame to victory !” “You will, if you go up in that tone of voice!” cried Bert, admiringly. ‘Oh, you are getting on all right, my dear. That ten thou- If you'll say that over again I'll give you a nickel!” sand dollar accent will catch them! “T couldn’t,” said Miss Allyn, dropping back into her ordinary voice. “My outbursts of genius only last for a minute. Do you think, young man, that I could keep that up forever?’ “Well, should “Why, talk about histrionic ability, you have for the sake of the audience, I hope not.” was the cool answer. ‘t to burn! You are a regular thoroughbred . ° ” harn-stormer, Miss Allyn. “T don’t know exactly what that means, but it’s all right,” said Miss Allyn, sweetly; and just then the conductor came up to them tc collect their tickets. “We are too poor to pay fares, sir,” said Bert, looking up at him, solemnly. “We are just starting out on the road to fame. Can’t you take a matinee on the train to pay for our transportation ?” “But this road doesn’t lead to fame,” leughed the conductor, good-naturedly. “We only go to Buffalo by the way of Albany.” “Just my luck!” sighed Bert, dropping into his chair, while the manager of the company handed over the tickets. | | As the manager pointed out his people the rest of the passengers in the car stared at them curiously. i “They think we are a lot of jays and ya- boos,” said Bert, under his breath. “Dashed if I wouldn’t like to go through the car and 33 ! smash some of their phizzes “And we are such an eminently proper lot of people,” remarked Miss Allyn. ‘Why, who ever heard of a theatrical company like ours! Outside of perhaps three or four, there’s not a ‘professional’ in it!” ‘““And some of them are only professionals I by courtesy,’ retorted Bert, staring straight at Percy Preston. “What the deuce do you mean?” exclaimed the actor, angrily. ““You seem determined to have fun with me, Jackson, but I’m not in the mood to stand it much longer.” “Pity you haven’t a more amiable disposi- tion,” retorted Bert. “Oh, Bert, please don’t!’ pleaded Marion, “Mr. understand what a tease you are, and, really, your re- again. Preston doesn’t marks are very uncomplimentary to me, also! Haven't I been on the stage long enough to be a ‘professional’ ?” “Tf Miss Marlowe isn’t a ‘star,’ [ never saw one!” broke in Miss Ellis. “She's the most talented woman in the pro- fession,’ } ms aie echoed Mrs. were ialit Omicbooks, co 5} a ——— =