"You ought to stop behind after your turn and see her, Mac," the
stage manager's voice went on evenly. "All right, Jackson! On you
go, Mac!"
Barbara felt her heart jump. Now for it, daddy!
The great curtain mounted majestically and Arthur Mackwayte,
deputy turn, stumped serenely on to the stage.
CHAPTER II. CAPTAIN STRANGWISE ENTERTAINS A GUEST
It was the slack hour at the Nineveh Hotel. The last groups about
the tea-tables in the Palm Court had broken up, the Tzigane
orchestra had stacked its instruments together on its little
platform and gone home, and a gentle calm rested over the great
hotel as the forerunner of the coming dinner storm.
The pre-dinner hour is the uncomfortable hour of the modern hotel
de luxe. The rooms seem uncomfortably hot, the evening paper
palls, it is too early to dress for dinner, so one sits yawning
over the fire, longing for a fireside of one's own. At least that
is how it strikes one from the bachelor standpoint, and that is
how it appeared to affect a man who was sitting hunched up in a
big arm-chair in the vestibule of the Ninevah Hotel on this
winter afternoon.
His posture spoke of utter boredom. He sprawled length in his
chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his, eyes
half-closed, various editions of evening papers strewn about the
ground at his feet.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32