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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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"There’s more marching in this opera than ever I did before," added the girl. "Have you been in others?" asked Carrie, surprised at her experience. "Lots of them," said the girl; "haven’t you?" "This is my first experience." "Oh, is it? I thought I saw you the time they ran ‘The Queen’s Mate’ here." "No," said Carrie, shaking her head; "not me." This conversation was interrupted by the blare of the orchestra and the sputtering of the calcium lights in the wings as the line was called to form for a new en-trance. No further opportunity for conversation occurred, but the next evening, when they were getting ready for the stage, this girl appeared anew at her side. "They say this show is going on the road next month." "Is it?" said Carrie. "Yes; do you think you’ll go?" "I don’t know; I guess so, if they’ll take me." "Oh, they’ll take you. I wouldn’t go. They won’t give you any more, and it will cost you everything you make to live. I never leave New York. There are too many shows going on here." "Can you always get in another show?" "I always have. There’s one going on up at the Broadway this month. I’m going to try and get in that if this one really goes." Carrie heard this with aroused intelligence. Evidently it wasn’t so very difficult to get on. Maybe she also could get a place if this show went away. "Do they all pay about the same?" she asked. "Yes. Sometimes you get a little more. This show doesn’t pay very much." "I get twelve," said Carrie. "Do you?" said the girl. "They pay me fifteen, and you do more work than I do. I wouldn’t stand it if I were you. They’re just giving you less because they think you don’t know. You ought to be making fifteen." "Well, I’m not," said Carrie. "Well, you’ll get more at the next place if you want it," went on the girl, who admired Carrie very much. "You do fine, and the manager knows it." To say the truth, Carrie did unconsciously move about with an air pleasing and somewhat distinctive. It was due wholly to her natural manner and total lack of self-consciousness. "Do you suppose I could get more up at the Broadway?" "Of course you can," answered the girl. "You come with me when I go. I’ll do the talking." Carrie heard this, flushing with thankfulness. She liked this little gaslight soldier. She seemed so experienced and self-reliant in her tinsel helmet and military accoutrements. "My future must be assured if I can always get work this way," thought Carrie. Still, in the morning, when her household duties would infringe upon her and Hurstwood sat there, a perfect load to contemplate, her fate seemed dismal and unrelieved. It did not take so very much to feed them under Hurstwood’s close-measured buying, and there would possibly be enough for rent, but it left nothing else. Carrie bought the shoes and some other things, which complicated the rent problem very seriously. Suddenly, a week from the fatal day, Carrie realised that they were going to run short. "I don’t believe," she exclaimed, looking into her purse at breakfast, "that I’ll have enough to pay the rent." "How much have you?" inquired Hurstwood. "Well, I’ve got twenty-two dollars, but there’s everything to be paid for this week yet, and if I use all I get Saturday to pay this, there won’t be any left for next week. Do you think your hotel man will open his hotel this month?" |
