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Updated: June 16, 2025
You ought to make a lot of money out of that." "We think we'll do very well," Mr. Quincel replied. "Don't you forget now," he concluded, Drouet showing signs of restlessness; "some young woman to take the part of Laura." "Sure, I'll attend to it." He moved away, forgetting almost all about it the moment Mr. Quincel had ceased talking. He had not even thought to ask the time or place.
By the evening of the 16th the subtle hand of Hurstwood had made itself apparent. He had given the word among his friends and they were many and influential that here was something which they ought to attend, and, as a consequence, the sale of tickets by Mr. Quincel, acting for the lodge, had been large. Small four-line notes had appeared in all of the daily newspapers.
By the evening of the 16th the subtle hand of Hurstwood had made itself apparent. He had given the word among his friends and they were many and influential that here was something which they ought to attend, and, as a consequence, the sale of tickets by Mr. Quincel, acting for the lodge, had been large. Small four-line notes had appeared in all of the daily newspapers.
Drouet dropped in at the lodge when he went down town, and swashed around with a great AIR, as Quincel met him. "Where is that young lady you were going to get for us?" asked the latter. "I've got her," said Drouet. "Have you?" said Quincel, rather surprised by his promptness; "that's good. What's her address?" and he pulled out his notebook in order to be able to send her part to her.
"Well, now, I'll tell you what we are trying to do," went on Mr. Quincel. "We are trying to get a new set of furniture for the lodge. There isn't enough money in the treasury at the present time, and we thought we would raise it by a little entertainment." "Sure," interrupted Drouet, "that's a good idea." "Several of the boys around here have got talent.
"'Who told you to steal? asked my mother. "'She there, said the child, pointing to a squalid woman in a doorway opposite, who fled suddenly down the street. 'That is old Judas, said the girl." Mrs. Morgan read this rather flatly, and the director was in despair. He fidgeted around, and then went over to Mr. Quincel. "What do you think of them?" he asked.
We'll make her," and the manager gave one of his quick, steely half-smiles, which was a compound of good-nature and shrewdness. Carrie, meanwhile, attended the first rehearsal. At this performance Mr. Quincel presided, aided by Mr. Millice, a young man who had some qualifications of past experience, which were not exactly understood by any one.
"Oh, I guess we'll be able to whip them into shape," said the latter, with an air of strength under difficulties. "I don't know," said the director. "That fellow Bamberger strikes me as being a pretty poor shift for a lover." "He's all we've got," said Quincel, rolling up his eyes. "Harrison went back on me at the last minute. Who else can we get?" "I don't know," said the director.
"I'm afraid he'll never pick up." At this moment Bamberger was exclaiming, "Pearl, you are joking with me." "Look at that now," said the director, whispering behind his hand. "My Lord! what can you do with a man who drawls out a sentence like that?" "Do the best you can," said Quincel consolingly.
"That sounds like somebody that can act, doesn't it?" said Quincel. "Yes, it does." He took the part home to Carrie and handed it to her with the manner of one who does a favor. "He says that's the best part. Do you think you can do it?" "I don't know until I look it over. You know I'm afraid, now that I've said I would." "Oh, go on. What have you got to be afraid of? It's a cheap company.
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