CHAPTER VII--AT THE STAGE ENTRANCE
Ruggles, from his stall, for the fourth time saw the curtain go up on_Mandalay_ and heard the temple bells ring. One of the stage boxes wasnot occupied until after the first act and then the son of his friendcame in alone and sat far back out of sight of any eyes but the keenest,and those eyes were Ruggles'. Letty Lane, delicious, fantastic,languishing, sang to Dan; that was evident to Ruggles. He was a largeman and filled his stall comfortably. He sat through the performancepeacefully, his hands in his pockets, his big face thoughtful, his shirtfront ruffled. To look at him, one must have wondered why he had come to_Mandalay_. He scarcely lost any of the threads of his own reflections,though when Miss Lane, in response to a call from the house, sang hercradle song three times, he seemed moved. The tones of her pure voice,the cradling in her arms of an imaginary child, her apparent dovelikepurity, her grace and sweetness, and her cooing, gentle tone, to judgeby the softening of the Westerner's face, touched very much the bigfellow who listened like a child. At the end he drew his handkerchiefslowly across his eyes, but the tears, or rather moisture, that rosethere was not all due to Miss Lane's song, for Ruggles was extremelywarm.
He could see that in his box the boy sat transfixed and absorbed. Danwent out in the second entr'acte and was absent when the curtain wentdown. Ruggles, as well, left before the performance was over, to makehis way outside the theater to the stage exit, where there was alreadygathered a little group, looked after by a couple of policemen. Close tothe curb a gleaming motor waited, the footman at its door. Rugglesbuttoned his coat up to his chin and took his place close to the door,over which the electric light showed the words "Stage Entrance." A poorwoman elbowed him, her shabby hat adorned by a scraggly plume, a grayshawl wrapped round her shoulders. A girl or two, who might have beenflower sellers in Piccadilly in the daytime, a couple of toughs, ahandful of other vagrants smelling of gin, a decent man in workingclothes, a child in his arms, formed the human hedge Letty Lane was topass between--a singular group of people to spend an hour hanging aboutthe streets at the exit of a theater well toward midnight. So the naiveRuggles thought, and better understood the appearance of the youngfellows in evening clothes who hovered on the extreme edge of the littlecrowd. Dan, however, was not of these.
"Look sharp, Cissy," the workingman spoke to his child, holding her wellup. "When she comes hout she'll pass close to yer, and you sing hout,'God bless yer.'"
"Yes, Dad, I will," shrilled the child.
The woman in the gray shawl drew it close about her. "Aw she's a truelidy, all right, ain't she? I expect you've had some kindness off her aswell?"
The man nodded over the child's shoulder. "Used to be a scene shifter,and Miss Lane found out about my little girl last year--not this lass,not Cissy, Cissy's sister--and she sent 'er to a place where it costs theeyes out of yer head. She's gettin' well fast, and we, none of us, hasseen her or spoken to Miss Lane. She doesn't know our names."
And the woman answered: "She does a lot like that. She's got a heartbigger'n her little body."
And a big boy in the front row said back to the others: "Well, she makesa mint of money."
And the woman who had spoken before said: "She gives it nearly all tothe poor."
Ruggles was evidently on the poor side of the waiting crowd; the handfulof riffraff around him with its stench of dirt and gin. A better lookingset collected opposite and there was the gleam of white shirt fronts.
"Now, there she comes," the father saw her first. "Sing out, Cissy."
The door opened and a figure quickly floated from it, like a white roseblown out into the foggy darkness. It floated down the few steps to thestreet between the double row of spectators. A white cloak entirelycovered the actress. Her head was hidden by a white scarf, and shealmost ran the short gantlet to her motor, between the cries of "Godbless you!"--"Three cheers for Letty Lane"--"God bless you, lady!" Shedidn't speak or heed, however, or turn her head, but held her scarfagainst her face, and the man who slowly lounged behind her to the car,and put her in and got in after her, was not the man Joshua Ruggles hadwaited there to see. He hung about until the footman had sprung up andthe car moved softly away, the stage entrance door shut, then hefollowed along with the crowd, with the few faithful ones who had waitedan hour in the cold mist to cry out their applause, not to a singer in_Mandalay_ but to a woman's heart.
The Girl From His Town Page 7
