Page:Angna Enters - Among the Daughters.djvu/220

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"Really? How interesting. You must come to Boston sometime, my dear. Raymond, I met Karsarvina at Sybil's—Lady Duckworth. Karsarvina's married to that Englishman what's-his-name. There is no one quite like her, do you think so too?" This last addressed to Lucy.

That puts me in my place, Lucy thought, and said sweetly, "I've never seen her but I'd like to. Hello, Damon!"

A prematurely grey, nervous young man carrying a length of Persian brocade who had rushed in squinted at her. "Lucy darling! I was in for the second act last night. What you did to that stuffy audience! You were marvelous. There's nothing so dreary as a society benefit but they took their hands from under their behinds for you."

"Susan," said Figente, "this is Damon St. John, the greatest theatre designer since Bakst. You've undoubtedly admired his settings for the opera and the better Broadway plays."

"Yes indeed, you are a great artist, Mr. St. John. I remember your magnificent settings for Salome. We were quite staggered in Boston."

"Thank you," murmured St. John vaguely, looking critically at two golden screens placed at either side of the drawn window drapes. "I meant to get here sooner, Figente, but Beman wanted to talk about a wonderful play he has just read. It would be perfect for you, Lucy, but it needs considerable rewriting."

"Ranna is just getting into his costume—what do you think of the screens?"

"Fine—but I think I'll change the lights and throw this Persian brocade I found in your studio over the screens."

"Has he brought an accompanist?" Hal asked Mrs. Custerd, who thereupon remembered the flat parcel upon which her large black purse rested.

"He brought these records from India, so do be careful of them, young man. Raymond, I had dinner last night at Emma Bigelow's. It was for the Grand Duchess and I must say Emma's chef is a great artist."

My goodness, thought Lucy, everyone's an artist but me. I guess I'm just a Broadway hoofer.

Mary Doyle, turbaned for the occasion with an India print and clanking with silver and turquoise New Mexican jewelry, sank breathlessly next to Lucy.

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