Crazy Radio eBooks

"I don't believe so," she said. "If he has, I'll talk to him."
"No, you won't!" said Olga. "I'll talk to him myself."
There was a ring to that decision that did Rose's heart good. It took a
long time to get that northern blood on fire, but when you did, you
could count on its not going cold again overnight.
It got pretty exciting of course, as the scene between Sylvia and the
sextette drew near, and when it came, Rose could hardly manage her own
first line--hung over it a second, indeed, before she could make her
voice work at all, and drew a sharp look of inquiry from Galbraith. But
on Olga's first cue, her line was spoken with no hesitation at all, and
in tone, pitch and inflection, it was almost a phonographic copy of the
voice that had served it for a model.
There was a solid two seconds of silence. For once in her life Patricia
Devereux had missed a cue!
John Galbraith had been an acrobat as well as a dancer, and he was
quick on his feet. He had just turned, unexpectedly, an intellectual
somersault, but he landed cleanly and without a stagger.


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