Philip Curtiss

“ Surdam nodded.
"Well, Tilly—Miss Marshall—can sing that song all right."
"Good song for her," agreed Surdam.
Barnes turned and translated for Bellsmith. "Do you happen to remember a song 'way at the end of the second act, 'Ah, Women, All Daughters of Eve'?"
"I remember it very well," replied Bellsmith. "It's pretty."
"Pretty?" snorted Barnes, outraged to the depths of his soul. "It's a beauty! It's a gem! Worked right, that song's enough to make a show all by itself. But where is it now! It's lost. It does n't come until people are putting on their hats and coats to go home. ”

“ But, this time, she stoops and picks up a flower—get me?—and as she holds it and keeps it the same faint music begins to rise up, growing up stronger and stronger. Then, of course, the act goes on."
Barnes stopped proudly and looked around in happy defiance, but neither of the others had a word to say.
"That's good dope, Charlie," commented Surdam at last, "but is n't there anybody in this show except Tilly Marshall?"
Barnes laughed curtly. "Don't you worry about that. Tommy's provided for, and I always write most of my own stuff, anyway. So far as I'm concerned you 've got the idea. ”

“ He is n't to blame, but still he won't go back on his word. He's just reproachful. Sorrowful. Get me? So off goes Tommy, right in the middle of the song, still singing it, his voice growing farther and farther away in the distance.
Then bing! The whole bunch comes on laughing and chattering: that's the way it is now, you remember. But I would n't leave it that way. Now, here's the joker. Here's the kick. I'd bring on the bunch all right and have Tilly mix around among them, laughing and gayer than all the rest, trying to fight down her tears. ”

“ There's only one number in that whole score that is n't written in four-four time or two-four, and that's in rapid six-eight. Fundamentally there's nothing but marches. Why can't they shake them up? Why don't they mix their speeds, so to speak! Why not a waltz or two, or some other song rhythm? ”

“ Of course it's really a muted violin, but it's supposed to be Tilly's thoughts—memories.
"She stops. She's sort of scared. Listens. Never moves a step. Stands there through one whole verse. Not a word. Not a note. Just droops her head. Then slowly she picks up one single flower. Looks at it for a minute. Then slowly drops it again. And there's your curtain!"
The little man stopped abruptly, the tears glistening in his eyes, and Bellsmith himself was feeling rather queer. Opposite, Surdam was gazing fixedly at the table.
Barnes, however, was not nearly through. ”

“ The trouble is that we 've got about ninety-five more songs than we want, anyway. The way they are now they only just kill each other. The song numbers are like the book—all bla. What we want to do is to get one single song and hammer and hammer and hammer it in—build up the whole show around it."
Barnes turned professionally to Surdam, leaving Bellsmith out of it for the moment. ”