Philip Curtiss

“ From a fire exit in the balcony a long, thin shaft of daylight filtered in, dancing incessantly with millions of tiny dust motes, the pale, gray streamer of afternoon light appearing curiously out of place and intrusive. As Miss Marshall and Bellsmith tiptoed in from the lobby a single voice was speaking from somewhere in the darkness near the stage, giving directions with that empty, resounding effect of informal talk in a vacant auditorium. ”

“ Miss Marshall shook her head. "No," she mused, "I am surer than ever that you will prove in the end to be really a dealer in hay, grain, and feed. Your many facets are too good to be true.
"Will you play to me some time?" she added quietly. "Very gladly," said Bellsmith. [1]
Again suddenly the director on the stage clapped his hands for attention and again was interrupted.
"Wait a minute. What time is it getting to be?" asked the voice in the darkness, and the question also brought Bellsmith up standing. ”

“ In civilian dress the chorus people, for the most part, appeared very much younger, mere boys and girls. On the other hand, those of the principals who were present appeared very much older than they had in costume.
"Now, then!" ordered the directing voice, which still came from the darkness.
The orchestra leader brought down his baton, and the skeleton orchestra in attendance broke into a foxtrot tune which Bellsmith remembered from his previous view of the performance. ”