The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1903-09-13

You see We-she-rcally wish TO pre-
serve the incognito," the manager de-
INJURED. E.izabethan Stage Society Ell
Quette informing every shade Of his ges-
ture, tone and expression.
But don't care about the name"
shamelessly argued
A pause then.
Further pause.
Then. after another spasm Of artistic
and Elizabethan unwillingness, the man
ager turned TO a neighboring satellite and
asked:
Where DO the Crawleys stay?"
'kha!" I laughed. 7 know now. Where
do the CRAWBEYs stay, Mr.. Greet?"
He looked amusingly reproachful for
q moment then handsomely furnished me
with the Crawleys' address and the
promise Of an appointment.
had the grace not to ask who they"
were. IL was, however. man, quietly
courteous person, who met me at the
hotel once the succeeding day
Ny handy query, Mr.. Crawley, be-
lieve?" met with courteous assent and
he informed US that Mrs. Crawley"
would be ready to see us in a moment
Which was not so wonderful as what
] did not discover perdie. as Everyman
would say.
The lady, accustomed TO the miracles
OF lightning changes in costume. kept us
delicate perfume OF soap and water, with
which she had been removing the dust
Of rehearsal" as she laughingly inform
ed US. putting up her long, slender hands.
But you are like Mrs. Pat" / stupidity
began. They all told me sony devoted
family who have been among your most
devout congregations. I couldn't see it.
Now I wonder how I missed the like
ness"
Everybody says the same thing Mrs
Crawley said. with a radiantly good-na-
tured patience Of my plagiarism, per-
haps also a little enjoyment Her re-
semblance TO Mrs. Campbell is indeed
most marked. The chin is longer-the
face has the Georges Sand, the George
Eliot length and the eyes are rounder,
but these are nothing compared with
the resemblance. She is sOmberly haired
like Mrs Campbell, the black, intent
waves curving from a face as warmly
white Mrs. Pats own. The eyes are Of
the same proud brown, but without the
shadoWed deeps of the Campbell orbs.
They have, too, the same wide, gracious,
wondering gaze on occasion and the
same trick Of turning blue on the stage.
Her lips, as finely scarlet, catch the
Campbell melancholy IN their delicately
dropping corners, and open-more fire.
Quently-on teeth as pretty.
And again there is the characteristic
walk. the same miracle Of movement
Mrs. Crawley has. too, the Campbell
genius for lounging, and as she leaned
back among her cushions in her white,
thin, silzen waist that left the neck bare
and hung in careless clouds from the
arms, I could easily imagine Mrs Pat be-
fore me- Not for long, however, for
where Mrs. Campbell is the Weltschmerz
incarnate Mrs. Crawley is the spirit Of
optimism.
'sThe voice. too" I murmured, as the
~ he
in the connection-replied in her warm,
woody contralto.
There was talk then, and more later Of
Mrs. Campbell, and then asked If there
had been any more fragilely minded wo-
men frightened by Death at the Every
man" performances.
why, have there been some women
frightened by Death?" Mr.. Crawley
asked, much interested.
-Four that I know Of" I replied.
Really" Mr.. Crawley exclaimed.
He was interested, keenly interested,
curiously interested. I looked at him
rather wonderingly, then suddenly
thought: 'It could not be possible that
gasping aloud: But you're not" y
Yes i am" the actor smiled. It was
Death himself who had brought me to
Mrs. Crawley, whose lean handsomeness
was now smiling at me. Like the other
weak-witted females coul1 not down
a little shiver at the memory Of his make
Mrs. Crawley: Il couldn't use the other
makeup them"
She nodded a thoughtful mo-" and 1
asked: THAT is"
We'll, wanted to draw the whole skel-
eton" the mimic Death said cheerfully,
and then wear a floating, ashen cloak
that would give shadowy glimpses of it.
IT could be done quite easily" and Mr..
Crawley grimly picked out q rib or two
with a thin finger
You dreadful personi" I laughed, then
said: II don't quite get the significance of
the fur collar IN your present-er-Quite
sufficiently awful, Mr.. Crawley-make-
up"
+" Where. moth and rust do corrupt
YOU know. It is moth-eaten." he replied
simply. THE costume is much like Hol-
bein's Death, OF course"
Isn't 1t odd" Mrs. Crawley said, lean
ing forward with her luminous smile,
that twice the fortune-tellers told me not
10 come to America, that Death would be
near me all the time It must have been
you" and she looked over with teasing
tenderness at the enviable Mr.. Crawley.
There's nothing in il" that gentleman
exclaimed hastily. There was naive re-
lief too, in his tone as he said: You
said II was a fortune-teller, not a clair
ssYes." his wife replied with sympa-
thetic amusement for her husbands anx-
iety. Had the prophecy concerned Mr..
CraNleF she WOulC ehlQently nave been
less equable by the way" she contin-
ued. what 4 lot of that kind Of thing
there is here, teacup people, spiritualists,
'psychO'-all sorts Of things"
I'VE should give them ten shillings and
costs in England" this from Mr.. Craw-
ley.
Yet I protest, Took at your Psych-
ical Research Society, with its volumes
and volumes Of nightmare stories, in Lon
don itself"
Mrs. Crawley Unexpectedly subscribed:
My sister is in one OF them Three
times''-with her voice lowered mystic
ally and a sphinx-like finger up-pointed-
''she has seen a ghost"
rs it a family trait?" 1 asked
Ghost seeing? Oh no." she laughed
"And don't want to meet one, do you?
There are too many interesting people to
meet Still have had rather odd ex-
periences. The sense of having been be-
fore in some OF the Roman streets, ages
and ages ago, for example, was almost
Overwhelming. I'm not a bit modern.