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Updated: July 28, 2025
Potter stamped the floor; there was wrenched from him an incoherent shriek containing fragments of profane words and ending distinguishably with: "It's that Missmiss again!" Packer impelled himself upon Miss Malone, pushing her back. "No, no, no!" he cried. "Count ten! Count ten before you come down with that speech. You mustn't interrupt Mr. Potter, Miss Miss "
Count slow. Mark it on your sides, Miss ah Miss. 'Count ten for smile. Write it down please, Miss Miss " Potter spoke wearily. "Be kind enough to let me know, Packer, when you and Missmiss can bring yourselves to permit this rehearsal to continue." "All ready, sir," said Packer briskly. "All ready now, Mr. Potter."
He had noted that this voice, sweet as rain, and vibrant, but not loud, was the ordinary speaking voice of the understudy, and that her "I'm here," had sounded, soft and clear, across the deep orchestra to the last row in the house. "Of course!" Packer cried. "There she is, Mr. Potter! There's Miss Miss " "Is her name 'Missmiss'?" the star demanded bitterly. "No sir.
He's breaking out again!" A shriek of agony came from the stage. "Pack-e-r-r-! Where did you find this Missmiss understudy? Can't you get me people of experience? I really cannot bear this kind of thing I can not!" And Potter flung himself upon the chair, leaving the slight figure in black standing alone in the centre of the stage.
After that he whirled upon her, demanding with ferocity: "You've got something you can think with in your head, haven't you, Missmiss? Then what do you think of that?" Miss Malone smiled, and it was a smile that would have gone a long way at a college dance. Here, it made the pitying company shudder for her.
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