Now, when Galbraith's gaze plunged in that
direction, she turned and looked too. A big blonde chorus-girl was in
there with a man, a girl, who, with twenty pounds trained off her, and
that sulky look out of her face, would have been a beauty. She had
roused herself with a sort of defiant deliberation at the sound of the
director's voice, but she still had her back to him and went on talking
to the man.
"Grant!" said John Galbraith again, and this time his voice had a
cutting edge. "Will you take your place on the stage, or shall I suspend
rehearsal until you're ready?"
For answer she turned and began walking slowly across the room toward
the door in the proscenium that led to the stage. She started walking
slowly, but under Galbraith's eye, she quickened her pace,
involuntarily, it seemed, until it was a ludicrous sort of run.
Presently she emerged on the stage, looking rather artificially
unconcerned, and the rehearsal went on again.
But just before he gave the signal to the pianist to go ahead, Galbraith
with a nod summoned a young man from the wings and said something to
him, whereupon, clearly carrying out his orders, he vaulted down from
the stage and came walking toward the doorway where Rose was still
standing.
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