III.
Shortly afterward Mr. Marrier came into the managerial office, lit upnow, where Edward Henry was dictating to his typewriter and hospitalnurse, who, having been caught in hat and jacket on the threshold, hadbeen brought back and was tapping his words direct on to the machine. Itwas a remarkable fact that the sole proprietor of the Regent Theatre wasnow in high spirits and good-humour.
"Well, Marrier, my boy," he saluted the acting manager, "how are yougetting on with that rehearsal?"
"Well, sir," said Mr. Marrier, "I'm not getting on with it. Miss Euclidrefuses absolutely to proceed. She's in her dressing-room."
"But why?" enquired Edward Henry with bland surprise. "Doesn't she_want_ to be heard by her gallery-boys?"
Mr. Marrier showed a feeble smile.
"She hasn't been spoken to like that for thirty years," said he.
"But don't you agree with me?" asked Edward Henry.
"Yes," said Marrier, "I _agree_ with you--"
"And doesn't your friend Carlo want his precious hexameters to beheard?"
"We baoth agree with you," said Marrier. "The fact is, we've done all wecould, but it's no use. She's splendid; only--" He paused.
"Only you can't make out ten per cent. of what she says," Edward Henryfinished for him. "Well, I've got no use for that in my theatre." Hefound a singular pleasure in emphasising the phrase, "my theatre."
"That's all very well," said Marrier. "But what are you going to _do_about it? I've tried everything. _You've_ come in and burst up theentire show, if you'll forgive my saying saoh!"
"Do?" exclaimed Edward Henry. "It's perfectly simple. All you have todo is to act. God bless my soul, aren't you getting fifteen pounds aweek, and aren't you my acting manager? Act, then! You've done enoughhinting. You've proved that hints are no good. You'd have known thatfrom your birth up, Marrier, if you'd been born in the Five Towns. Act,my boy."
"But haow? If she won't go on, she won't."
"Is her understudy in the theatre?"
"Yes. It's Miss Cunningham, you knaow."
"What salary does she get?"
"Ten pounds a week."
"What for?"
"Well--partly to understudy, I suppose."
"Let her earn it, then. Go on with the rehearsal. And let her play thepart to-morrow night. She'll be delighted, you bet."
"But--"
"Miss Lindop," Edward Henry interrupted, "will you please read to Mr.Marrier what I've dictated?" He turned to Marrier. "It's an interviewwith myself for one of to-morrow's papers."
Miss Lindop, with tears in her voice if not in her eyes, obeyed theorder and, drawing the paper from the machine, read its contents aloud.
Mr. Marrier started back--not in the figurative but in the literalsense--as he listened.
"But you'll never send that out!" he exclaimed.
"Why not?"
"No paper will print it!"
"My dear Marrier," said Edward Henry. "Don't be a simpleton. You knowas well as I do that half-a-dozen papers will be delighted to print it.And all the rest will copy the one that does print it. It'll be thetalk of London to-morrow, and Isabel Joy will be absolutely snuffedout."
"Well," said Mr. Marrier. "I never heard of such a thing!"
"Pity you didn't, then!"
Mr. Marrier moved away.
"I say," he murmured at the door. "Don't you think you ought to readthat to Rose first?"
"I'll read it to Rose like a bird," said Edward Henry.
Within two minutes--it was impossible to get from his room to thedressing-rooms in less--he was knocking at Rose Euclid's door. "Who'sthere?" said a voice. He entered and then replied, "I am."
Rose Euclid was smoking a cigarette and scratching the arm of aneasy-chair behind her. Her maid stood near by with a whisky-and-soda.
"Sorry you can't go on with the rehearsal, Miss Euclid," said EdwardHenry very quickly. "However, we must do the best we can. But Mr.Marrier thought you'd like to hear this. It's part of an interview withme that's going to appear to-morrow in the press."
Without pausing, he went on to read: "'I found Mr. Alderman Machin, thehero of the Five Towns and the proprietor and initiator of London'snewest and most up-to-date and most intellectual theatre, surrounded bya complicated apparatus of telephones and typewriters in his managerialroom at the Regent. He received me very courteously. "Yes," he said inresponse to my question, "The rumour is quite true. The principal partin 'The Orient Pearl' will be played on the first night by Miss Euclid'sunderstudy, Miss Olga Cunningham, a young woman of very remarkabletalent. No; Miss Euclid is not ill or even indisposed. But she and Ihave had a grave difference of opinion. The point between us waswhether Miss Euclid's speeches ought to be clearly audible in theauditorium. I considered they ought. I may be wrong. I may beprovincial. But that was and is my view. At the dress-rehearsal,seated in the gallery, I could not hear her lines. I objected. Sherefused to consider the subject or to proceed with the rehearsal. _Hincillae lachrymae!_" ... "Not at all," said Mr. Machin in reply to aquestion, "I have the highest admiration for Miss Euclid's genius. Ishould not presume to dictate to her as to her art. She has had a verylong experience of the stage, very long, and doubtless knows better thanI do. Only, the Regent happens to be my theatre, and I'm responsiblefor it. Every member of the audience will have a complete uninterruptedview of the stage, and I intend that every member of the audience shallhear every word that is uttered on the stage. I'm odd, I know. But thenI've a reputation for oddness to keep up. And by the way I'm sure thatMiss Cunningham will make a great reputation for herself."'"
"Not while I'm here, she won't!" exclaimed Rose Euclid standing up, andenunciating her words with marvellous clearness.
Edward Henry glanced at her, and then continued to read: "Suggestionsfor headlines. 'Piquant quarrel between manager and star actress.''Unparalleled situation.' 'Trouble at the Regent Theatre.'"
"Mr. Machin," said Rose Euclid, "you are not a gentleman."
"You'd hardly think so, would you?" mused Edward Henry, as if mildlyinterested in this new discovery of Miss Euclid's.
"Maria," said the star to her maid, "go and tell Mr. Marrier I'mcoming."
"And I'll go back to the gallery," said Edward Henry. "It's the placefor people like me, isn't it? I daresay I'll tear up this paper later,Miss Euclid--we'll see."