"And so Talbot Potter's company is to be
made up of actors engaged to suit the personal whims of L. Smith
Packer's father, old Mister Packer of Baptist Ridge, near
Seeleyville, Pennsylvania!"
"But, Mr. Potter, if you don't--"
"I said that would DO!" roared Potter. "Good-night!"
"Good-night, sir," said the stage-manager humbly, and humbly got
himself out of the room, to be heard, an instant later, bidding
the Japanese an apologetic good-night at the outer door of the
apartment.
Canby rose to take his own departure, promising to have the new
dialogue "worked out" by morning.
"He is, too!" said Potter, not heeding the playwright, but
confirming an unuttered thought in his own mind. He halted at
the table, where he had set his tiny glass, and gulped the
emerald at a swallow. "I always thought he was!"
"Was what?" inquired old Tinker.
"A hypocrite!"
"D'you mean Packer?" said Tinker incredulously.
"He's a hypocrite!" Potter shouted fiercely. "And I shouldn't be
surprised if his father was another! Widower! I never saw the
man in my life, but I'd swear it on oath! He is a hypocrite!
Packer's father is a damned old Baptist hypocrite!"
VIII
With this sonorous bit of character reading still ringing in his
ears, Canby emerged from the cream-coloured apartment to find
the stoop-shouldered figure of the also hypocritical son leaning
wearily against the wall, waiting for a delaying elevator.
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