was insisting. "Then the night must change to rose—morning, and the renewal of life, you see—and then on a music cue I want a strong ray of sunlight over there where those four girls are standing."
"Lady, we ain't got the equipment. What you want is a Reinhardt production—and a couple days' reherarsal!"
"Hurry up, Ilona," Lucy said, "don't get too fancy—our two hours' rehearsal time is half over."
"I'm not going to ruin my number for the sake of an extra few minutes," Ilona, who was not sharing in the expenses, said loftily, and stalked off declaring she would not appear because everyone was against her.
Ranna, Vida mused, was the opposite of Ilona, he left his effects to the decision of the electrician after telling him the general tone he wanted. Nor after rehearsing his group would he trouble to go over his solo, and Lucy had to insist on his rehearsing their duet.
The piano tuner arrived and refused to wait until the rehearsal was over, as he had another piano to tune at Carnegie Hall.
Five thirty, two and a half hours' overtime for the crew already and Lucy hasn't even started her run-through, Vida moaned, and went to the box office.
"Fair, for this sorta thing," she was told, "but you shoulda dressed the house. Why don't you call up that club where actresses live or the Y.W.—they usually snap up free seats."
"Perhaps I will," Vida said miserably and returned backstage where it was more cheerful.
At six Lucy finished her light rehearsal.
"If everyone'd made out a light plot like yours we'da finished hours ago," Jack, the electrician, said and remained a half hour on his own time to set up an additional effect to improve Lucy's numbers.
"All right, girls, put on your costumes and we'll have a run-through without lights, but with the boys," Lucy ordered.
"Look, Miss Claudel," Jack said uneasily, "if you put on costumes it means the crew's got to be kept on because it's a dress rehearsal."
"Oh go on, they are all gone and you just turn your head," she coaxed.
He grinned but warned, "If a union representative shows up, I'm not responsible."
"Figente sent you this," Hal said, handing her a small white leather box.
