News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1916-10-04
He wondered.

| married second time did not disturb
his pulse by the least fraction of a
beat. He even contemplated the chance
that she might be dead with normal
equanimity. Fortunate, that he didn't
love her. More fortunate still, that he
loved no one else.
| lncontinently he wrote and dis
| patched long, eXtravagant cablegram
to Mrs. Petit in care of the American
embassy, little doubling that she would
| Immediately answer.
When eventually he strobe into the
| white room Max was already estab-
| lished at the famous little table in the
! southeast corner. Whitaker was con-
scious of turning heads and guarded
| comment as he took his place opposite
the little fat man.
snake you famous in night" Max
assured him Importantly. Don't hap
pen to need any notoriety, do your
"No, thanks"
"Dine with me here three nights
handwriting and they'll let you into
the Syndicate by the back door with
out even asking your name. P. T. AS
one grand little motto, my boy"
"P. T. Ar"
"Pays to advertise. Paste that in
your hat. Look me over" he requested
abruptly, leaning back. 81 guess I'm
some giddy young buck, what?"
Whitaker reviewed the striking eff
1Tnxr haI t,N1 I,,1 ae,i,,, II 10
brief neck and double chin in an old
fashioned high collar and black silk
stock, beneath which his important
chest was protected by an deliberately
frilled shirt decorated with black pearl
studs. His waist was strapped in by
and there was a distinctly perceptible
invisible" stripe in the material of his
evening coat and trousers.
Dressed like fool" Max summed
up the ensemble before his guest could
speak. "Would you believe that de-
spair could gnaw at the vitals of any
one as wonderfully arrayed?'
81 would not" Whitaker asserted.
"Yet, I'm down in the mouth, be-
cause this is Sara's last appearance"
Max motioned the waiter to remove
the debris of q course. give got it in
my knob that she's my mascot. If she
leaves me, my luck goes with her. 1
made her, all right but she made me,
too; and it sprains my sense of good
business to break up a paying combi-
nation like that
Nonsense" Whitaker contended
were telling me this afternoon that
you stand next to Belasco as a produc-
ing manager. The loss of one star isn't
going to rob you of that prestige, is
it?"
"You never can TELL" the little man
contended darkly; 81 wouldn't bet
thirty cents my next production would
turn out hit. I've had several close
calls with Sara-she's threatened to
chuck the stage often before this but
every time something happened to
make her change her mind. I've got
bunch maybe something will happen
this time too. If 1t does, won't want
any partners"
Whitaker laughed quietly and turned
the conversation, accepting the mana
gers pseudo-confidences at their face
is, as pure bluff, quite con-
sistent with the managerial pose.
They rose presently and made their
way out into the crowded, blatant night |
of Broadway.
"Well walk, if you don't mind" Max
ut isn't far. and I'd like |
to get line on the house as it goes |
in" He sighed affectedly. Heaven |
knows when I'll see another swell au- |
dience mobbing one of my attractions"
They pushed forward slowly through !
the eddying tides, elbowed by match |
less motley of humanity, deafened by |
It's thousand tongues, dazzled to blind
ness by walls of living light. Whitaker
a sensation of participant
ing in a royal progress Max was plain
~ a man of mark; he left wake of
ripping interest. At every third step
hailed him, as rule by his
first name; generally he responded by |
a curt nod and tightening of his
teeth upon his cigar.
They turned east through Forty
sixth street, shouldered by a denser
rabble whose faces, all turned in one
shone livid with the glare of
q gigantic electric sign, midway down
the block:
THEATER MAX
SARA LAWS FAREWELL.
1t was nearly half-past eight; the
house had been open since seven; and
still queue ran from the gallery doors
to Broadway. The lobby itself was
to suffocation with an occi-
dental durbar of barbaric magnificence,
the city's supreme manifestation OF
It's religion, the ultimate rite in the
worship of the pomps of the flesh.
"Look at that" Max grumbled
through his cigar. "Ain't it shameT"
"What? Whitaker had to lift his
voice to make it carry above the buzz
ling of the throng.
"The money I'm losing" returned
-bo ,,,onaror x-ivi11u |