"But what I hated most was the men--the men leering and blathering at
you across tables, trying to buy you with Wuerzburger or Extra Dry,
according to their estimate of your price. And the men in the
audiences, clapping, yelling, snarling, crowding, writhing,
gloating--like a lot of wild beasts, with their eyes fixed on you,
ready to eat you up if you come in reach of their claws. Oh, how I
hate 'em!
"Well, I'm not telling you much about myself, am I, Lynn?
"I had two hundred dollars saved up, and I cut the stage the first of
the summer. I went over on Long Island and found the sweetest little
village that ever was, called Soundport, right on the water. I was
going to spend the summer there, and study up on elocution, and try
to get a class in the fall. There was an old widow lady with a
cottage near the beach who sometimes rented a room or two just for
company, and she took me in. She had another boarder, too--the
Reverend Arthur Lyle.
"Yes, he was the head-liner. You're on, Lynn. I'll tell you all of it
in a minute. It's only a one-act play.
"The first time he walked on, Lynn, I felt myself going; the first
lines he spoke, he had me. He was different from the men in
audiences. He was tall and slim, and you never heard him come in the
room, but you felt him. He had a face like a picture of a
knight--like one of that Round Table bunch--and a voice like a 'cello
solo. And his manners!
"Lynn, if you'd take John Drew in his best drawing-room scene and
compare the two, you'd have John arrested for disturbing the peace.
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