"
"I've been in since the last of April," said Lynnette. "And I'm going
on the road with a 'Fatal Inheritance' company. We open next week in
Elizabeth. I thought you'd quit the stage, Lee. Tell me about
yourself."
Rosalie settled herself with a skilful wriggle on the top of Miss
D'Armande's wardrobe trunk, and leaned her head against the papered
wall. From long habit, thus can peripatetic leading ladies and
their sisters make themselves as comfortable as though the deepest
armchairs embraced them.
"I'm going to tell you, Lynn," she said, with a strangely sardonic
and yet carelessly resigned look on her youthful face. "And then
to-morrow I'll strike the old Broadway trail again, and wear some
more paint off the chairs in the agents' offices. If anybody had told
me any time in the last three months up to four o'clock this
afternoon that I'd ever listen to that 'Leave-your-name-and-address'
rot of the booking bunch again, I'd have given 'em the real Mrs.
Fiske laugh. Loan me a handkerchief, Lynn. Gee! but those Long Island
trains are fierce. I've got enough soft-coal cinders on my face to go
on and play _Topsy_ without using the cork. And, speaking of corks--
got anything to drink, Lynn?"
Miss D'Armande opened a door of the wash-stand and took out a bottle.
"There's nearly a pint of Manhattan. There's a cluster of carnations
in the drinking glass, but--"
"Oh, pass the bottle. Save the glass for company. Thanks! That hits
the spot.
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