Chapter 34 souvenir

Miss Lynette Damand no longer pays attention to Broadway.It was tit for tat, as Broadway ignored Miss Damand on several occasions.But Broadway seems to have the upper hand, because the former heroine of "What Comes Around" has to ask for everything from Broadway, and the reverse has never been the case. Miss Lynette Dammand's window overlooked Broadway, and she turned her chair back toward it, and sat down to mend the heels of her black stockings.Broadway, glittering and noisy beneath the windows, did not appeal to her; what she longed for was the stifling air of a dressing-room on this fairy street, and the tumult of audiences in the shifting theaters.Besides, those stockings cannot be neglected.Stockings are really not durable.But—what would you wear without stockings?

Thalia overlooks Broadway as Marathon overlooks the ocean.It rose like a dark cliff above the whirlpool, where the currents of the two thoroughfares collided.The bands gather here after the tour, take off their boots and dust off their socks.The streets in this area are full of ticket offices, theatres, agency houses, schools, and places of public entertainment to relieve boredom. Walking up and down the quaint passages of the dimly lit and dated Thalia Hotel, you feel as if you are in a big ship or a caravan, ready to sail or roll away.There is a feeling of uneasiness in this hotel, or a feeling of anticipation or coming and going, or even anxiety and fear.Many of the corridors of the hotel are mazes, and without a guide, you will wander in it like a wandering ghost.

No matter which corner you turn, you either run into someone in pajamas or you hit a dead end.You'll meet alarmist tragedies in bathrobes looking for bathrooms out of nowhere.From hundreds of rooms came the hum of conversation, snippets of old and new songs, and the occasional laugh of the assembled actors. Summer has arrived, their troupe has been disbanded, and the actors are resting in their favorite hotels. On the one hand, they surround the managers and try to get a performance contract for the next season. By this time in the afternoon, the chasing of executives was over.When you are absent-mindedly walking through the moss-covered aisle, you will encounter bright-eyed, white-toothed, beauties wearing veils passing by you, their steps are light, their silk dresses rustle, and they throw away some waste , adding a cheerful smell to the dreary aisle, reminding one of the taste of frangipani.The prim young comedians, with Adam's apples rolling up and down, gathered in the doorway to talk about Booth.From somewhere in the distance came the smell of ham and red cabbage and the clink of glasses and plates.

The indistinct hum of life at Thalia's Hotel was punctuated in due course by the snap of beer corks and thus animated.If anyone were to punctuate a day in the life of this delightful hotel, the comma is everyone's favorite symbol, the semicolon brings frowns, and the period no one wants to use. Miss Durmand's room was a very small one.If the rocking chair is lined up with the dressing table and washbasin stand, it will fit just right.In addition to the necessary supplies on the dressing table, there are also some memorabilia collected by the previous heroine, including tour engagements and photos of her best friends in the industry.

As she mended the heels, she looked and looked at one of the pictures, a friendly smile on her face. "I'd like to know where Lee is at this time," said Miss Dammand to herself. If you were lucky enough to look at the photo she loved so much, you would expect it to look like a picture of a white flower blown open by the wind.But this picture has nothing to do with the Kingdom of Flowers. What you see is actually Miss Rosalie Wray's fluttering tulle skirt during her performance.She was swinging on a wisteria bunch, and a tumble floated far out of the range of the stage, flying high above the heads of the audience.The camera didn't capture her graceful and powerful kicking gesture enough, and in the thrilling moment a yellow garter popped from her nimble limb and flew high and far before finally landing on the jubilant crowd below middle.There is this touching scene in the performance every night.

You can also see, among the mostly male, professional-class sideshow audience, hundreds of hands raised for the beautiful souvenirs that fly from the sky. Every two years, during the forty weeks of the best tour, the show was Miss Rosalie Wray's repertoire.She had other things to do in the twelve-minute program—a little song and dance; a traditional rendition of two or three male actors; However, when the flower-decorated swing stand hangs down from the height of the stage, Miss Rosalie jumped onto the swing seat with a smile on her face. The golden garter was very eye-catching on her thigh, and it was about to slip off her thigh and become the coveted object of everyone. The prizes flew from above - at this moment, the audience rose from their seats - or stood up with others - to admire her stunt, which made Miss Lei's name the most popular at the box office name.

At the end of the season, Miss Ray suddenly announced to her friend Miss Damand that she was going to spend the summer in an old village on the North Shore of Long Island, and that she would never be seen on stage again. Seventeen minutes had passed since Miss Lynette Dammand had expressed her wish to know what had happened to her old friend when there was a thumping at the door. There was no doubt that it was Rosalie Ray, who came in at the loud greeting from the room, and looked a little restless because she was tired of walking, and dropped a heavy handbag on the floor.I swear it's Rosalie.She was wearing a dusty overcoat, a brown veil tightly framed around her face and hanging down like streamers, a gray casual dress, and brown oxford loafers with lavender overslips.

When she has pulled off both her veil and her hat, you see a rather handsome face, flushed with an unnatural disturbance of emotion, with large restless eyes marred by some unfavorable event. brilliant.A full head of dark reddish-brown hair, which had been hastily combed at first, was now freed from comb and barrettes, and fell in curls. These two gatherings are different from their gatherings with their sisters who are not in the same circle in the society. There is no endless talk, no warm hugs and kisses, no questions and answers.They just hugged lightly and touched their lips lightly twice, the relationship between them remained the same as usual.When the two itinerants met at the crossroads, much like soldiers or travelers in foreign wilds, they greeted briefly.

"I rented a room at the end of the hall two floors up," said Rosalie, "but I came straight to see you and didn't go up. They told me that you were here." "I've been living here since the end of April," said Lynette. "I'm going on the road with Big Success, playing at Elizabeth next week. I thought you were off the stage, Lee. Talk to me." Talk about your situation." Rosalie swung her hips into Lynette's trunk and sat down with her head against the papered board.By long-acquired habit, itinerant heroines and their sisters are accustomed to conversing in this position, as comfortable as sitting in an arm-chair.

"I'm going to tell you, Lynn," said her young face with a strange look of sarcasm and determination, "tomorrow I'm going to walk the old Broadway road again, to hang out with agents. During the past three months Well, at any time until four o'clock this afternoon, anyone who tells me that I have to listen to other people's nonsense about 'leave your name and address', I will smile at them like Mrs. Fisk Borrow me a handkerchief, Lynn. Why, those Long Island trains suck. My face is covered in soot, and I'm going to play Topsy, and I don't need cork for makeup. Speaking of cork, Do you have anything to drink?"

Miss Durmand opened the little door under the washstand and took out a bottle of wine. "Almost a pint of Manhattan. There's a bunch of carnations in that glass, but—" "Oh, pass me the bottle, and the glass will be spared. Thanks! Wine refreshes you, and it does the same for you. It's the first time I've had a drink in three months. "By the way, Lynn, I left the stage at the end of the last season. I left it because I was tired of this life. Especially because my soul was tired of those people--these are all things we have as actors. No waiters. You know how it is with us. We have to deal with everyone, from the manager who asks us to test drive his new car, down to the poster guy who calls us by our first names. "And after the show we had to meet the worst of them. The guys at the backstage entrance, and the manager's friends and family, were going to take us to dinner, show off their diamonds, talk to them about what they saw. To Dan, Dave, Charlie. They're beasts, and I hate them. "Let me tell you, Lynn, we poor girls on the stage. They're good families, ambitious, hard-working, trying to improve artistically, but never getting there. You've heard the chorus If you sympathize with the girls who make fifteen dollars a week! What about the misery of the chorus that can be cured by a lobster. Bullshit! "If anyone wants to shed a tear, let him shed for the leading lady in a bad show, and she's getting paid thirty to forty-five dollars a week. She knows she'll never get any better, But she has been on the stage for several years, hoping to encounter some opportunities, but in fact, it is always hopeless. "Still doing shitty plays! Doing a 'trolley pas de deux' in a musical and having another girl carry you around by your legs is way better than if I had to do it in thirty big cities It's an idiot thing, but it's a serious drama. "But what I hate most are people—those guys who squint at you across the table and tell you nonsense, according to his estimate of your worth, they will buy you Würzburg wine or sweet champagne. And the audience Those people at the banquet, some applauded, some shouted, some huddled together, some twisted, and some gloated—like a group of wild beasts, all staring at you, as long as you fall into their claws They'll swallow you up in one gulp—oh, I hate 'em. "I haven't had much to say to you about my personal affairs, have I, Lynn? "I saved two hundred dollars, so as soon as the summer came I left the stage, went to Long Island, and found a very cute little village called Thunder Harbor, right by the sea. I'm going to spend the summer there, studying vocalization, Wanting to do a training class in the fall. There's a widowed old woman there, who has a house near the sea, and she rents out a room or two sometimes, trying to have company. She has another tenant there, the Reverend Arthur Lyle. "Well, he's a great man, you know, Lynn. I'll tell you all at once. It's just a one-act play. "I fell in love with him at first sight, Lynn. One word from him caught my heart. He was tall and thin, unlike those in the audience, and you didn't hear him come in, I felt him coming. His face was like that of a knight of the round table in a picture, and his voice was like a solo cello. And his demeanor— "Lynn, if you compare John Drew's best scene in the living room with the Reverend Arthur Lyle, you'd rather have John under arrest for disorderly conduct. "I won't go into the details, just to tell you that within a month Arthur and I got engaged. He preached in a Methodist church. When we got married there was going to be a vicarage the size of a dining car, There was the hen and the honeysuckle. Arthur used to tell me all about heaven, but he couldn't get my mind off the honeysuckle and the hen. "Of course I didn't tell him I was an actor. I hate it and everything that goes with it. I'm going to cut it off forever, and I don't see any good in mixing things up. I've been a good girl, and I've got nothing to do Confessions, unless it is said that I am a vocal law teacher. I say that with no qualms of conscience. "Oh, I'm telling you, Lynn, I had a great time. I sang in the chorus, I went to the sewing club, I sang 'Anne Lowry' and all that kind of thing, and I had a good whistle. Weekly The village newspaper called it 'nearly professional'. Arthur and I went boating, walking in the woods, collecting clams on the beach, and this little village seemed to me the most wonderful place in the world. I would like to always live there, if not-- "I helped that old widow, Mrs. Gurley, string her pods on the back porch one morning, and she became talkative, gossiping, as landladies tend to do. Mr. Lyle was the ideal sage of her world. —in my mind, too. She went on and on about all his virtues and manners, and finally told me, in a roundabout way, that not long ago Arthur had had a very romantic love affair which had not turned out well. She seemed Didn't know the details, but she knew he had been hit hard. He was paler and thinner than before, she said, and he still kept some memento or token of the lady, a small rosewood log locked in a drawer of his desk. box. "'I have seen him several times,' said she, 'in the night looking sullenly into the box, and if anyone came into his room he always locked it up immediately.' "Well, you can imagine how long it took me to take Arthur by the wrist and lead him off the podium, whispering in his ear. "That afternoon we were out on the beach in a small boat, swinging among the water lilies. "'Arthur,' said I, 'you never told me you were in love with anyone else. But Mrs. Gurley told me,' and I went on and made him understand that I knew about him. I hate a Men lie. "'Before you came,' he said frankly, looking me in the eye, 'I had a love--and a passion. Now that you know it, I want to be absolutely frank with you.' "'My dear Ida (of course I used my real name when I was at Thunderport),' said Arthur, 'this former love was entirely spiritual. Though the lady aroused my deepest feelings, And I thought she was my ideal woman, but I had never met her or spoken to her. It was an ideal love. My love for you, though equally ideal, There's a difference. You're not going to let that get between the two of us." "'Is she pretty?' I asked. "'She was beautiful,' said Arthur. "'Do you see her often?' I asked. "'Probably a dozen times,' he said. "'Always seen from afar?' I asked. "'Always from a considerable distance,' he said. "'And you love her?' I asked. "'She seemed to be the embodiment of my ideal beauty and grace--my ideal mind,' said Arthur. "'And that keepsake you locked up, which you stare at now and then, was she for you, didn't she?' "'It's a keepsake I treasure.' "'She gave it to you?' "'From her,' said he. "'Didn't she send it herself?' I asked. "'Not a personal gift,' said he, 'but it came fairly directly.' "'Why don't you meet her?' I asked. 'Because you are very different from her?' "'She's much taller than I am,' said Arthur. 'Listen, Ida,' he went on, 'it's a thing of the past, and you won't be jealous of it, will you?' "'Jealousy!' said I. 'Where did you go! It makes me respect you ten times as much as I did before I knew it.' "Indeed, Lynn—if you can understand. This ideal of love is something I have never grasped, and I think it is the most beautiful and glorious thing that has ever been heard. Just think, a man loves a man It's amazing to me that a woman who never said a word is so faithful to his image. I've never known anyone who came to you with diamonds and cheap earrings. Or Promise to raise your salary - and their ideals - forget it, let's not talk about them. "Well, it makes me respect Arthur more than I did before. I won't envy the distant goddess he used to worship, because he's going to be my kinsman before long. I'm starting to think of him as a sage on earth, with Old Gerry The wife thinks the same. "According to four o'clock in the afternoon Arthur was called to see an invalid in the parish. Old Mrs. Gurley was lying on her couch snoring, and I was a bit lonely to be alone. "I looked in Arthur's study as I passed, and saw his bunch of keys hanging in the desk drawer and forgetting to take them out. Well, I think we're all like the blue-bearded lady sometimes, with an evil heart, no Huh, Lynn? I decided to take a look at his secret keepsake, not out of curiosity, but out of curiosity. "When I opened the drawer I wondered what the souvenir would be. Maybe it was a shriveled rosebud she threw to him from the balcony, or maybe it was a picture of her that he cut out of a magazine cover Yes—she's high in society. "I opened the drawer and saw a rosewood box the size of a man's collar case. I found the key on the keychain and opened the lid. "I took one look at the souvenir, and went back to my room to pack. I stuffed a few things into my handbag, combed my hair, put on my hat, and went and kicked the old lady in the foot. Come on. I was trying to be as polite and decent as I could to save Arthur some face, and that's my habit, but I just couldn't. "'Stop simmering the pig's head,' I said, 'get up and listen to me. Paycheck is coming. I'm leaving here, and I owe you eight dollars. The shipping company's going to come get my box.' "I handed her the money. "'Why, Miss Crosby!' said she, 'what's the matter? I always thought you were enjoying your stay here. Why, the young girl is so incomprehensible, and so different from what you expect.' "'You've said it very well,' said I. 'Some women do. But men are different. When you know one man, you know all men! That's the way people are.' "So I caught the 4:38 train, covered in soot, and came here." "You haven't told me what's in the box, Lee," asked Miss Durmand impatiently. "A yellow garter that I kicked over my leg and into the audience during the swing. Any more cocktails, Lynn?"

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Notes: She became famous as Tess in the novel, and later became famous for her performance in Ibsen's plays.