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Updated: June 25, 2025
Oh, the days the days, long years before he set out on his Journey of Despair, when mirth had no malice, and tears were tributaries to pity! 'I have vound oudt, said Darco, one day, 'that our paggage man is a pantit He is ropping eferypoty, and I have kiven him a fortnight's vages, and the bag to carry. That is my liddle chockular vay to say he has got the zack.
Tomorrow there will be no call. Next day at eleven sharp, eferything as at the broduction. Then it will debend upon yourselves whether you are galled upon to rehearse again or no. With this all engaged dispersed well pleased, and Darco announced his intention of dining and going to bed.
I can't tell you how bitterly sorry I've been for the brutal way in which I paid you for all your kindness. Try and forgive me, old chap. Do now. It wasn't ingratitude, Darco, though it looked like it It was a boy's infatuation for a woman. 'I dold you, said Darco I rememper as if it was yesterday. I said: "You are a tarn fool, and you will be zorry."
Paul mooned about in a miserable, aching ecstasy for a quarter of an hour or so, and then, finding by his watch that the supper-hour appointed by Darco was near at hand, he sauntered to the hotel. Miss Belmont was there before him, radiant and serene, and looking as unkissable as Diana. Paul would have approached her, but a mere motion of her fine eyebrows warned him off.
He followed his circus, which, as Paul gathered, had made a start at five o'clock that morning, and Darco and his new secretary took train for London. The two had a second-class carriage to themselves. 'You haf lodgings somevares eh? Darco asked. 'In Charterhouse Square,'Paul answered. 'That is too far away, said his employer. 'I lif at Hamp-stead. You must get lotchings glose by me.
Act by act was put in rehearsal as it left the writers' hands, and the final scenes were written in the theatre itself, and the parts copied in one of the dressing-rooms. For the last fortnight of the work there was time to think of nothing else, and when the very tag was written there was labour enough left to satisfy even Darco.
Darco stared a moment, for the young man's beard and moustache were fully grown, and they disguised him. 'Oh! he said at last. 'Id is Armstronk. How do you do? He held out his hand somewhat laxly, but Paul took it in both his and wrung it fervently. 'I can't tell you how glad I am to see you.
And tucked away in the further corner of the dining-room of the Grand Hotel the familiar figure of an English comedian! who, when Paul last saw him, was playing in a piece written far himself and Darco. 'Hillo, Paul! Can't I get into any blooming corner of the world but some old pal is bound to root me out? 'How's trade? said Paul. 'Going strong? 'Bad, dear boy, the comedian answered.
'I can't explain, said Paul. 'I can only tell you that I have to go to London. I must go. 'You vait there a liddle bid, returned Darco. 'I am going to think. He rolled away, and Paul hoped he might think to little purpose, but in half an hour he was back again. His eyes snapped, but he was as cold as an iceberg. 'Ven do you vant to co? he asked abruptly.
'I am bolder now, said Ralston; and Paul, leaving him for a moment, raced upstairs, and, having made a brief search in his study, returned with a big sheaf of type-written matter in his hand. 'There is my case, he said. 'Old Darco calls it madness to challenge such a truth in such a fashion. Weldon will take the piece and play it. He will produce it anonymously by preference, but as I choose.
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