The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 186: what you’re looking at

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180 Slowly she turned to the star and bowed her head in silent assent. That night, after the performance, Sin- clair sat alone in his dressing-room, quite pleased with results. The lines had been cut to suit his demand, and Anne had not roused the audience the way she had done on the opening night. It had been Sinclair all the way through the act, with the clamoring all for him after the curtain dropped. All of which goes to show that par- ticularly strong lines worked into a dra- matic situation, especially near the climax of an act, have a whole lot to do with get- ting the audience, provided, of course, they are put over with ability. And while the star was gloating over his victory, Anne was pacing to and fro in her dressing-room, much disturbed over the whole thing. She realized that Sinclair had practically deprived her of efficient ammunition. “ Tt’s unjust—an outrage,” she told her- self over and over again. And then, for nothing better to do, she sat on her trunk and began reading a theater magazine to divert her mind. And while the star was in one dressing- room and Anne in another, Williams and Hale were having a drink in a near-by hotel, discussing the changed part. ‘Sinclair’s a wise old owl, Don,” Williams remarked, squirting some vichy into his glass; ‘that is, where his own glory is concerned.” Hale shook his head. “I still predict,” he replied, “‘ that no good is going to come of it.” III. THE next day Anne had something else to disconcert her. The star had ordered more of her lines cut, this time in the first act, much to the strenuous opposition of Williams and Hale. Anne’s spirit rebelled at this second in- justice, but realizing how powerful the star was, she controlled herself, and abided by his decision. All that afternoon she wor- ried about the change, and the night found her at the theater, nervous and up- set. THE ARGOSY. During the first act she missed the laughs that had formerly greeted some of her comedy lines. The playwright also missed them, and with a grim face he watched the act out. His practised eye noted something else. Anne was not playing well. She seemed nervous, and, in fact, somewhat unfamiliar with cues at the spots where the lines had been cut. After the act was over he _ joined Williams, who was standing alone at the back of the theater. ‘“ Frank,” he said, ‘ Miss Travis was not herself in that first act.” Williams nodded. same,” he said. ‘It’s all Sinclair’s fault,” Hale declared, his eyes flashing. ““He’s got us where he wants us,” Wil- liams replied, “and we have to put up with it.” During the second act, Hale watched the stage with set lips. The big scene, the one Sinclair had originally ordered cut, was about to take place, with only the star and Anne on the boards. Anne seemed to-be more nervous than she had been in the first act even. ‘That girl looks as though she were on the verge of hysterics,” Hale muttered Then he suddenly sat up in his seat, as a loud report resounded through the house, starting from the stage. Anne had thrown back her head, and had deliberately snapped her fingers under the star’s nose! Astounded, Sinclair fell back a step, watching his leading woman as she made rapid strides toward the right exit. The audience did not know what to make of it. It certainly could not be in the part, for the incident was contrary to every- thing the scene depicted. Helplessly, Sinclair stood on the stage looking around with the expression of a man who had lost his senses. Then the house laughed. Hale, bewildered, sat still in his seat, staring at the stage. Suddenly the curtain “T thought the ‘shot down, and a murmur of astonishment passed through the audience. Williams, who had also witnessed the oO cComicbooe S CO