Yardsley. I don't blame him. Seems to me a man of your intelligence
ought to know better than to rehearse on a cable-car, anyhow, to say
nothing of stepping on a man's corns.
Barlow. Of course I apologized; but he was a persistent old codger,
and demanded an explanation of my epithet.
Perkins. It's a wonder he didn't have you put off. A man doesn't
like to be insulted even if he does ride on the cable.
Barlow. Oh, I appeased him. I told him I was rehearsing. That I
was an amateur actor.
Mrs. Perkins. And of course he was satisfied.
Barlow. Yes; at least I judge so. He said that my confession was
humiliation enough, without his announcing to the public what he
thought I was; and he added, to the man next him, that he thought the
public was exposed to enough danger on the cable cars without having
lunatics thrust upon them at every turning.
Perkins. He must have been a bright old man.
Mrs. Perkins. Or a very crabbed old person.
Barlow. Oh, well, it was an experience, but it rather upset me, and
for the life of me I haven't been able to remember the opening lines
of the scene since.
Pages:
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80