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Waiting, be it observed, for a chance to curl up
in a seat in the day-coach, when the train came along.
But Rose didn't mind this very much. The rooms assigned to her and her
roommate were fully as comfortable as the one she had lived in on Clark
Street, and the meals, as a whole, were rather better than those her
habitual lunch-room had provided. As for riding on the train: it gave
you the sense of doing something and getting somewhere, without imposing
the necessity either for judgment or for resolution. The real
discomforts to Rose were not the material ones.
The piece had been, as she discovered during the one rehearsal she had
attended in Chicago, deliberately cheapened and vulgarized for the road.
The only one of the principals who had a shred of professional
reputation, was a comedian named Max Webber, who played the part of the
cosmetic king. He'd come up in vaudeville and his methods reeked of it.
He was featured in the billing and he arrogated all the privileges of a
real star.


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