The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 183: what you’re looking at

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

THE OTHER SIDE he pushed by the other man and with a quick step started down the corridor. It was characteristic of Sinclair to act like that; to answer curtly and brush by people, seeming to feel his superiority. For fifteen years he had been a star, and members of the theatrical profession looked upon him as a man wrapped up in himself. At first glance he might have been taken for forty, but a closer study would show that he looked all of his fifty years. He was six feet tall, well proportioned, with iron-gray hair that covered a well-shaped With his make-up on he was good-look- ing, but when the grease-paint came off his face appeared heavily lined and decidedly cynical. The strains of the orchestra could be heard, back stage, as the star paused be- hind the left wing. Suddenly the music stopped, and the curtain went up on tke first act of ‘“ The Man~Rules.” From where he stood, Sinclair command- ed a fair view of the front of the house. What he saw pleased him. Row after row of fashionable-looking people, who al- ways turned out to see his opening night performance. Back stage a deep silence prevailed. Several members of the company were standing here and there, waiting for their cues. Suddenly Sinclair shifted his gaze. <A young girl, a very pretty ‘girl with large, brown eyes that looked out of a dark, oval face, came up beside him with one hand over her heart. ‘“ Nervous?” he asked, looking down at her. The girl raised her eyes to his. ribly. ‘him. He was about to answer when he heard his cue, and with a hurried step crossed behind the back drop. The next second he had made his en- trance. The sound of applause rang through the house. It was Sinclair’s usual reception. Breathlessly the girl waited. It would only be a minute before she would. follow “* Ter- I suppose it’s suspense,” she told OF THE CURTAIN, 177 the star, and within that time a hundred thoughts flashed through her mind. It was her first big chance. She had never played in New York; had nothing to recommend her but three years’ stock training in a company miles from the Great White Way, where she had been dis- covered by Frank Williams, the theatrical producer, wh), seeing her ability, was now putting her out as Sinclair’s leading wo- man. It was the thing she had always dreamed: playing the lead in New York, the city where so many stars are made. Now, as she nerved herself to face the crit- ical Broadway audience, she heard her cue, and with a beating heart walked out on the stage. Three hours later Henry Sinclair sat alone in his dressing-room, with narrowed eyes and tight lips. Something unexpected had happened. The girl who had been selected for his leading woman had made a terrific hit at once. He closed his eyes, thinking about that big scene in the second act. It was one of those situations that critics generally refer to, and it led up to the climax of the act. He had played it with the art of the fin- ished actor; but after the fall of the cur- tain and his repeated bows, the audience kept applauding, until it was obvious that the clamoring was for the new leading wo- man. And the stage manager, realizing this, ordered her to take a curtain call alone, after which the applause subsided. Sinclair gritted his teeth. He had al- ready become jealous of the girl. He realized that her part in that particular scene was bigger than his, her lines much stronger. Suddenly the door opened, and Frank Williams, the producer of the play, entered the room. “Henry,” he said, giving Sinclair a familiar clout on the back, “ that new leading woman surpassed my expectations. She’s made a hit.” Sinclair did not answer. The manager, seeing that the star was upset over some- thing, sat down and looked at him. oO comicbool< CO