She seemed to be struggling to
get the bearings of a perfectly new idea. At length she gave him the
clue.
"It's that forty weeks," she said. "The notion of just going on--not
changing anything or improving anything; doing the same thing over and
over again for forty weeks, or even four, seems perfectly ghastly. And
yet I suppose that's what everybody in the company is hoping for--just
to keep going round and round like a horse at the end of a pole. What
I'd like to do, now that this is finished, is--well, to start another."
His eyes kindled. "That's it," he said. "That's what I've felt about you
all along. I suppose it's the reason I felt you never could be an
actress. You see the thing the way I do--the whole fun of the game is
getting the timing. Once it's got ..." He snapped his fingers; and with
an eager nod she agreed.
He was in focus now, there could he no doubt of that. But it didn't
occur to him that it was the director who was in focus, not the man.
The fact was that in evoking the director she'd banished the man--a
triumph she wasn't to realize the importance of until a good deal later.
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