But the limp young man didn't seem disconcerted, and inquired in so many
words, what her business was. The duchess said in a harsh high voice
with a good deal of inflection to it, that she wanted to see the
director; a very partic'lar friend of his, she assured the young man,
had begged her to do so. "You'll have to wait till he's through
rehearsing," said the young man, and then he came over to Rose.
The vestiges of the smile the duchess had provoked were still visible
about her mouth when he came up. "May I wait and see Mr. Galbraith after
the rehearsal?" she asked. "If I won't be in the way?"
"Sure," said the young man. "He won't be long now. He's been rehearsing
since two." Then, rather explosively, "Have a chair."
He struck Rose as being a little flustered and uncertain, somehow, and
he now made a tentative beginning of actually bringing a chair for her.
"Oh, don't bother," said Rose, and now she couldn't help smiling
outright. "I'll find one for myself."
But, whenever he had begun rehearsing, it was evident that John
Galbraith didn't mean to stop until he got through, and it was a long
hour that Rose sat there in a little folding chair similar to the one
occupied by the duchess; an hour which, in spite of all her will could
do, took some of the crispness out of her courage.
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