章节正文
dread. "Just--my notes, you know, but I do need them. I couldn't
carry the baby easily, so I pinned them on her skirt,
thinking--thinking--"
The maid came in and dumped a little heap of white before me.
I fell on my knees.
Oh, yes, I prayed all right, but I searched, too. And there it
was.
What I said to that woman I don't know even now. I flew out
through the hall and down the steps and--
And there Kitty Wilson corralled me.
"Say, where's that stick-pin?" she cried.
"Here!--here, you darling!" I said, pressing it into her hand.
"And, Kitty, whenever you feel like swiping another purse--just
don't do it. It doesn't pay. Just you come down to the Vaudeville
and ask for Nance Olden some day, and I'll tell you why."
"Gee!" said Kitty, impressed. "Shall--shall I call ye a
hansom, lady?"
Should she! The blessedinspiration of her!
I got into the wagon and we drove down street--to the Vaudeville.
I burst in past the stage doorkeeper, amazed to see me, and
rushed into Fred Obermuller's office.
"There!" I cried, throwing that awful paper on the desk before
him. "Now cinch 'em, Fred Obermuller, as they cinched you.
It'll be the holiest blackmail that ever--oh, and will you pay
for the hansom?"
XVI.
I don't remember much about the first part of the lunch. I was so
hungry I wanted to eat everything in sight, and so happy that I
couldn't eat a thing.
But Mr. O. kept piling the things on my plate, and each time I
began to talk he'd say: "Not now--wait till you're rested, and
not quite so famished."
I laughed.
"Do I eat as though I was starved?"
"You--you look tired, Nance."
"Well," I said slowly, "it's been a hard week."
"It's been hard for me, too; harder, I think, than for you. It
wasn't fair to me to let me--think what I did and say what I did.
I'm so sorry, Nance,--and ashamed. So ashamed! You might have
told me."
"And have you put your foot down on the whole thing; not much!"
He laughed. He's got such a boyish laugh in spite of his chin and
his eye-glasses and the bigness of him. He filled my glass for me
and helped me again to the salad.
Oh, Mag, it's such fun to be a woman and have a man wait on you
like that! It's such fun to be hungry and to sit down to a jolly
little table just big enough for two, with carnations nodding in
the tall slim vase, with a fat, soft-footed, quick-handed waiter
dancing behind you, and something tempting in every dish your eye
falls on.
It's a gay, happy, easy world, Maggie darlin'. I vow I can't find
a dark corner in it--not to-day.
None but the swellest place in town was good enough, Obermuller
had said, for us to celebrate in. The waiters looked queerly at
us when we came in--me in my dusty shoes and mussed hair and old
rig, and Mr. O. in his working togs. But do you suppose we cared?
He was smoking and I was pretending to eat fruit when at last I
got fairly launched on my story.
He listened to it all with never a word of interruption.
Sometimes I thought he was so interested that he couldn't bear to
miss a word I said. And then again I fancied he wasn't listening
at all to me; only watching me and listening to something inside
of himself.
Can you see him, Mag, sitting opposite me there at the pretty
little table, off in a private room by ourselves? He looked so
big and strong and masterful, with his eyes half closed, watching
me, that I hugged myself with delight to think that I--I, Nancy
Olden, had done something for him he couldn't do for himself.
It made me so proud, so tipsily vain, that as I leaned forward
eagerly talking, I felt that same intoxicating happiness I get on
the stage when the audience is all with me, and the two of
us--myself and the many-handed, good-natured other fellow over on
the other side of the footlights--go careering off on a jaunt of
fun and fancy, like two good playmates.
He was silent a minute when I got through. Then he laid his cigar
aside and stretched out his hand to me.
"And the reason, Nance--the reason for it all?"
I looked up at him. I'd never heard him speak like that.
"The reason?" I repeated.
"Yes, the reason." He had caught my hand.
"Why--to down that tiger Trust--and beat Tausig."
He laughed.
"And that was all? Nonsense, Nance Olden, there was another
reason. There are other tiger trusts. Are you going to set up as
a lady-errant and right all syndicate wrongs? No, there was
another, a bigger reason, Nance. I'm going to tell it to
you--what!"
I pulled my hand from his; but not before that fat waiter who'd
come in without our noticing had got something to grin about.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said. "This message must be for you,
sir. It's marked immediate, and no one else--"
Obermuller took it and tore it open. He smiled the oddest smile
as he read it, and he threw back his head and laughed a full,
hearty bellow when he got to the end.
"Read it, Nance," he said, passing it over to me. "They sent
it on from the office."
I read it. "Mr. Fred W. Obermuller, Manager
Vaudeville Theater, New York City, N.Y.:
Dear Obermuller:--I have just learned from your little protegee,
Nance Olden, of a comedy you've written. From what Miss Olden
tells me of the plot and situations of And the Greatest of
These--your title's great--I judge the thing to be something
altogether out of the common; and my secretary and reader, Mr.
Mason, agrees with me that properly interpreted and perhaps
touched up here and there, the comedy ought to make a hit.
Would Miss Olden take the leading role, I wonder?
Can't you drop in this evening and talk the matter over? There's
an opening for a fellow like you with us that's just developed
within the past few days, and--this is strictly confidential--I
have succeeded in convincing Braun and Lowenthal that their
enmity is a foolish personal matter which business men shouldn't
let stand in the way of business. After all, just what is there
between you and them? A mere trifle; a standing" target="_blank" title="n.误解；隔阂">misunderstanding that half
an hour's talk over a bottle of wine with a good cigar would
drive away.
If you're the man I take you for you'll drop in this evening at
the Van Twiller and bury the hatchet. They're good fellows, those
two, and smart men, even if they are stubborn as sin.
Counting on seeing you to-night, my dear fellow,
I am most cordially,
I. M. TAUSIG."
I dropped the letter and looked over at Obermuller.
"Miss Olden," he said severely, coming over to my side of the
table, "have you the heart to harm a generous soul like that?"
"He--he's very prompt, isn't he, and most--"
And then we laughed together.
"You notice the letter was marked personal?" Obermuller said.
He was still standing beside me.
"No--was it?" I got up, too, and began to pull on my gloves;
but my fingers shook so I couldn't do a thing with them.
"Oh, yes, it was. That's why I showed it to you. Nance--Nance,
don't you see that there's only one way out of this? There's only
one woman in the world that would do this for me and that I could
take it from."
I clasped my hands helplessly. Oh, what could I do, Maggie, with
him there and his arms ready for me!
"I--I should think you'd be afraid," I whispered. I didn't dare
look at him.
He caught me to him then.
"Afraid you wouldn't care for an old fellow like me?" he
laughed. "Yes, that's the only fear I had. But I lost it, Nancy,
Nancy Obermuller, when you flung that paper down before me.
That's quite two hours ago--haven't I waited long enough?"
* * * * * * * * * * *
Oh, Mag--Mag, how can I tell him? Do you think he knows that I am
going to be good--good! that I can be as good for a good man who
loves me, as I was bad for a bad man I loved!
XVII.
PHILADELPHIA, January 27.
Maggie, dear:
I'm writing to you just before dinner while I wait for Fred. He's
down at the box-office looking up advance sales. I tell you,
Maggie Monahan, we're strictly in it--we Obermullers. That
Broadway hit of mine has preceded me here, and we've got the
town, I suspect, in advance.
But I'm not writing to tell you this. I've got something more
interesting to tell you, my dear old Cruelty chum.
I want you to pretend to yourself that you see me, Mag, as I came
out of the big Chestnut Street store this afternoon, my arms full
of bundles. I must have on that long coat to my heels, of dark,
warm red, silk-lined, with the long, incurving back sweep and
high chinchilla collar, that Fred ordered made for me the very
day we were married. I must be wearing that jolly little,
red-cloth toque caught up on the side with some of the fur.
Oh, yes, I knew I was more than a year behind the times when I
got them, but a successful actress wears what she pleases, and
the rest of the world wears what pleases her, too. Besides,
fashions don't mean so much to you when your husband tells you
how becoming--but this has nothing to do with the Bishop.
Yes, the Bishop, Mag!
I had just said, "Nance Olden--" To myself I still speak to me
as Nancy Olden; it's good for me, Mag; keeps me humble and for
ever grateful that I'm so happy. "Nance, you'll never be able to
carry all these things and lift your buful train, too. And
there's never a hansom round when it's snowing and--"
And then I caught sight of the carriage. Yes, Maggie, the same
fat, low, comfortable, elegant, sober carriage, wide and
well-kept, with rubber-tired wheels. And the two heavy horses,
fat and elegant and sober, too, and wide and well-kept. I knew
whose it was the minute my eyes lighted on it, and I couldn't--I
just couldn't resist it.
The man on the box-still wide and well-kept--was wide-awake this
time. I nodded to him as I slipped in and closed the door after
me.
"I'll wait for the Bishop," I said, with a red-coated assurance
that left him no alternative but to accept the situation
respectfully.
Oh, dear, dear! It was soft and warm inside as it had been that
long, long-ago day. The seat was wide and roomy. The cushions had
been done over--I resented that--but though a different material,
they were a still darker plum. And instead of Quo Vadis, the
Bishop had been reading Resurrection.
I took it up and glanced over it as I sat there; but, you know,
Mag, the heavy-weight plays never appealed to me. I don't go in
for the tragic--perhaps I saw too much of the real thing when I
was little.
At any rate, it seemed dull to me, and I put it aside and sat
there absent-mindedly dreaming of a little girl-thief that I knew
once when--when the handle of the door turned and the Bishop got
in, and we were off.
Oh, the little Bishop--the contrast between him and the fat,
carry the baby easily, so I pinned them on her skirt,
thinking--thinking--"
The maid came in and dumped a little heap of white before me.
I fell on my knees.
Oh, yes, I prayed all right, but I searched, too. And there it
was.
What I said to that woman I don't know even now. I flew out
through the hall and down the steps and--
And there Kitty Wilson corralled me.
"Say, where's that stick-pin?" she cried.
"Here!--here, you darling!" I said, pressing it into her hand.
"And, Kitty, whenever you feel like swiping another purse--just
don't do it. It doesn't pay. Just you come down to the Vaudeville
and ask for Nance Olden some day, and I'll tell you why."
"Gee!" said Kitty, impressed. "Shall--shall I call ye a
hansom, lady?"
Should she! The blessedinspiration of her!
I got into the wagon and we drove down street--to the Vaudeville.
I burst in past the stage doorkeeper, amazed to see me, and
rushed into Fred Obermuller's office.
"There!" I cried, throwing that awful paper on the desk before
him. "Now cinch 'em, Fred Obermuller, as they cinched you.
It'll be the holiest blackmail that ever--oh, and will you pay
for the hansom?"
XVI.
I don't remember much about the first part of the lunch. I was so
hungry I wanted to eat everything in sight, and so happy that I
couldn't eat a thing.
But Mr. O. kept piling the things on my plate, and each time I
began to talk he'd say: "Not now--wait till you're rested, and
not quite so famished."
I laughed.
"Do I eat as though I was starved?"
"You--you look tired, Nance."
"Well," I said slowly, "it's been a hard week."
"It's been hard for me, too; harder, I think, than for you. It
wasn't fair to me to let me--think what I did and say what I did.
I'm so sorry, Nance,--and ashamed. So ashamed! You might have
told me."
"And have you put your foot down on the whole thing; not much!"
He laughed. He's got such a boyish laugh in spite of his chin and
his eye-glasses and the bigness of him. He filled my glass for me
and helped me again to the salad.
Oh, Mag, it's such fun to be a woman and have a man wait on you
like that! It's such fun to be hungry and to sit down to a jolly
little table just big enough for two, with carnations nodding in
the tall slim vase, with a fat, soft-footed, quick-handed waiter
dancing behind you, and something tempting in every dish your eye
falls on.
It's a gay, happy, easy world, Maggie darlin'. I vow I can't find
a dark corner in it--not to-day.
None but the swellest place in town was good enough, Obermuller
had said, for us to celebrate in. The waiters looked queerly at
us when we came in--me in my dusty shoes and mussed hair and old
rig, and Mr. O. in his working togs. But do you suppose we cared?
He was smoking and I was pretending to eat fruit when at last I
got fairly launched on my story.
He listened to it all with never a word of interruption.
Sometimes I thought he was so interested that he couldn't bear to
miss a word I said. And then again I fancied he wasn't listening
at all to me; only watching me and listening to something inside
of himself.
Can you see him, Mag, sitting opposite me there at the pretty
little table, off in a private room by ourselves? He looked so
big and strong and masterful, with his eyes half closed, watching
me, that I hugged myself with delight to think that I--I, Nancy
Olden, had done something for him he couldn't do for himself.
It made me so proud, so tipsily vain, that as I leaned forward
eagerly talking, I felt that same intoxicating happiness I get on
the stage when the audience is all with me, and the two of
us--myself and the many-handed, good-natured other fellow over on
the other side of the footlights--go careering off on a jaunt of
fun and fancy, like two good playmates.
He was silent a minute when I got through. Then he laid his cigar
aside and stretched out his hand to me.
"And the reason, Nance--the reason for it all?"
I looked up at him. I'd never heard him speak like that.
"The reason?" I repeated.
"Yes, the reason." He had caught my hand.
"Why--to down that tiger Trust--and beat Tausig."
He laughed.
"And that was all? Nonsense, Nance Olden, there was another
reason. There are other tiger trusts. Are you going to set up as
a lady-errant and right all syndicate wrongs? No, there was
another, a bigger reason, Nance. I'm going to tell it to
you--what!"
I pulled my hand from his; but not before that fat waiter who'd
come in without our noticing had got something to grin about.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said. "This message must be for you,
sir. It's marked immediate, and no one else--"
Obermuller took it and tore it open. He smiled the oddest smile
as he read it, and he threw back his head and laughed a full,
hearty bellow when he got to the end.
"Read it, Nance," he said, passing it over to me. "They sent
it on from the office."
I read it. "Mr. Fred W. Obermuller, Manager
Vaudeville Theater, New York City, N.Y.:
Dear Obermuller:--I have just learned from your little protegee,
Nance Olden, of a comedy you've written. From what Miss Olden
tells me of the plot and situations of And the Greatest of
These--your title's great--I judge the thing to be something
altogether out of the common; and my secretary and reader, Mr.
Mason, agrees with me that properly interpreted and perhaps
touched up here and there, the comedy ought to make a hit.
Would Miss Olden take the leading role, I wonder?
Can't you drop in this evening and talk the matter over? There's
an opening for a fellow like you with us that's just developed
within the past few days, and--this is strictly confidential--I
have succeeded in convincing Braun and Lowenthal that their
enmity is a foolish personal matter which business men shouldn't
let stand in the way of business. After all, just what is there
between you and them? A mere trifle; a standing" target="_blank" title="n.误解；隔阂">misunderstanding that half
an hour's talk over a bottle of wine with a good cigar would
drive away.
If you're the man I take you for you'll drop in this evening at
the Van Twiller and bury the hatchet. They're good fellows, those
two, and smart men, even if they are stubborn as sin.
Counting on seeing you to-night, my dear fellow,
I am most cordially,
I. M. TAUSIG."
I dropped the letter and looked over at Obermuller.
"Miss Olden," he said severely, coming over to my side of the
table, "have you the heart to harm a generous soul like that?"
"He--he's very prompt, isn't he, and most--"
And then we laughed together.
"You notice the letter was marked personal?" Obermuller said.
He was still standing beside me.
"No--was it?" I got up, too, and began to pull on my gloves;
but my fingers shook so I couldn't do a thing with them.
"Oh, yes, it was. That's why I showed it to you. Nance--Nance,
don't you see that there's only one way out of this? There's only
one woman in the world that would do this for me and that I could
take it from."
I clasped my hands helplessly. Oh, what could I do, Maggie, with
him there and his arms ready for me!
"I--I should think you'd be afraid," I whispered. I didn't dare
look at him.
He caught me to him then.
"Afraid you wouldn't care for an old fellow like me?" he
laughed. "Yes, that's the only fear I had. But I lost it, Nancy,
Nancy Obermuller, when you flung that paper down before me.
That's quite two hours ago--haven't I waited long enough?"
* * * * * * * * * * *
Oh, Mag--Mag, how can I tell him? Do you think he knows that I am
going to be good--good! that I can be as good for a good man who
loves me, as I was bad for a bad man I loved!
XVII.
PHILADELPHIA, January 27.
Maggie, dear:
I'm writing to you just before dinner while I wait for Fred. He's
down at the box-office looking up advance sales. I tell you,
Maggie Monahan, we're strictly in it--we Obermullers. That
Broadway hit of mine has preceded me here, and we've got the
town, I suspect, in advance.
But I'm not writing to tell you this. I've got something more
interesting to tell you, my dear old Cruelty chum.
I want you to pretend to yourself that you see me, Mag, as I came
out of the big Chestnut Street store this afternoon, my arms full
of bundles. I must have on that long coat to my heels, of dark,
warm red, silk-lined, with the long, incurving back sweep and
high chinchilla collar, that Fred ordered made for me the very
day we were married. I must be wearing that jolly little,
red-cloth toque caught up on the side with some of the fur.
Oh, yes, I knew I was more than a year behind the times when I
got them, but a successful actress wears what she pleases, and
the rest of the world wears what pleases her, too. Besides,
fashions don't mean so much to you when your husband tells you
how becoming--but this has nothing to do with the Bishop.
Yes, the Bishop, Mag!
I had just said, "Nance Olden--" To myself I still speak to me
as Nancy Olden; it's good for me, Mag; keeps me humble and for
ever grateful that I'm so happy. "Nance, you'll never be able to
carry all these things and lift your buful train, too. And
there's never a hansom round when it's snowing and--"
And then I caught sight of the carriage. Yes, Maggie, the same
fat, low, comfortable, elegant, sober carriage, wide and
well-kept, with rubber-tired wheels. And the two heavy horses,
fat and elegant and sober, too, and wide and well-kept. I knew
whose it was the minute my eyes lighted on it, and I couldn't--I
just couldn't resist it.
The man on the box-still wide and well-kept--was wide-awake this
time. I nodded to him as I slipped in and closed the door after
me.
"I'll wait for the Bishop," I said, with a red-coated assurance
that left him no alternative but to accept the situation
respectfully.
Oh, dear, dear! It was soft and warm inside as it had been that
long, long-ago day. The seat was wide and roomy. The cushions had
been done over--I resented that--but though a different material,
they were a still darker plum. And instead of Quo Vadis, the
Bishop had been reading Resurrection.
I took it up and glanced over it as I sat there; but, you know,
Mag, the heavy-weight plays never appealed to me. I don't go in
for the tragic--perhaps I saw too much of the real thing when I
was little.
At any rate, it seemed dull to me, and I put it aside and sat
there absent-mindedly dreaming of a little girl-thief that I knew
once when--when the handle of the door turned and the Bishop got
in, and we were off.
Oh, the little Bishop--the contrast between him and the fat,
- whenever [wen´evə]
conj.&ad.无论何时 (初中英语单词) - ashamed [ə´ʃeimd] a.惭愧；不好意思 (初中英语单词)
- celebrate [´selibreit] vt.庆祝；表扬；赞美 (初中英语单词)
- working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
- audience [´ɔ:diəns] n.听众；观众；接见 (初中英语单词)
- pardon [´pɑ:dən] n.&vt.原谅；饶恕；赦免 (初中英语单词)
- properly [´prɔpəli] ad.适当地；严格地 (初中英语单词)
- opening [´əupəniŋ] n.开放；开端 a.开始的 (初中英语单词)
- trifle [´traifəl] n.琐事，小事；少量 (初中英语单词)
- generous [´dʒenərəs] a.慷慨的；丰盛的 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- writing [´raitiŋ] n.书写；写作；书法 (初中英语单词)
- suspect [´sʌspekt, sə´spekt] v.怀疑；觉得 n.嫌疑犯 (初中英语单词)
- pretend [pri´tend] v.假装；借口；妄求 (初中英语单词)
- collar [´kɔlə] n.衣领；(狗等的)项圈 (初中英语单词)
- bishop [´biʃəp] n.主教 (初中英语单词)
- humble [´hʌmbəl] a.谦卑的 vt.贬抑 (初中英语单词)
- grateful [´greitful] a.感谢的；令人愉快的 (初中英语单词)
- carriage [´kæridʒ] n.马车；客车；货运 (初中英语单词)
- resist [ri´zist] v.抵抗；对抗；抵制 (初中英语单词)
- reading [´ri:diŋ] n.(阅)读；朗读；读物 (初中英语单词)
- contrast [´kɔntrɑ:st] n.对比 v.使对比(照) (初中英语单词)
- inspiration [,inspi´reiʃən] n.鼓舞；灵感；启发 (高中英语单词)
- nonsense [´nɔnsəns] n.胡说 int.胡说!废话 (高中英语单词)
- bellow [´beləu] v.吼叫；轰鸣 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- comedy [´kɔmidi] n.喜剧；喜剧场面 (高中英语单词)
- strictly [´striktli] ad.严格地 (高中英语单词)
- stubborn [´stʌbən] a.顽固的；坚持的 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- severely [si´viəli] ad.剧烈地；严格地 (高中英语单词)
- prompt [prɔmpt] a.敏捷的 vt.促使 (高中英语单词)
- cruelty [´kru:əlti] n.残忍；残酷行为 (高中英语单词)
- chestnut [´tʃesnʌt] n.栗子；栗树；栗色(马) (高中英语单词)
- actress [´æktris] n.女演员 (高中英语单词)
- elegant [´eligənt] a.文雅的；优美的 (高中英语单词)
- blessed [´blesid] a.享福的；神圣的 (英语四级单词)
- boyish [´bɔiiʃ] a.少年的；幼稚的 (英语四级单词)
- tempting [´temptiŋ] a.引诱人的，吸引人的 (英语四级单词)
- good-natured [´gud-´neitʃəd] a.脾气好的，温厚的 (英语四级单词)
- waiter [´weitə] n.侍者，服务员 (英语四级单词)
- convincing [kən´vinsiŋ] a.有说服力的；有力的 (英语四级单词)
- hatchet [´hætʃit] n.短柄小斧 (英语四级单词)
- alternative [ɔ:l´tə:nətiv] a.二中选一的 n.选择 (英语四级单词)
- blackmail [´blækmeil] vt.&n.敲诈，勒索 (英语六级单词)
- syndicate [´sindikit] n.理事会 (英语六级单词)
- misunderstanding [,misʌndə´stændiŋ] n.误解；隔阂 (英语六级单词)
- helplessly [´helplisli] ad.无能为力地 (英语六级单词)
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