Ralph Stock

“ Externally, with its white portico, marble steps, and highly varnished swinging doors, it lends a relieving splash of color to an otherwise drab and featureless row of typical London offices. Internally, it is as attractive as the whim of a tasteful woman can make it. Before passing down the narrow alley leading to the stage door Sprague looked about him, marveling, not for the first time, at the powers of the magician who could line that street with waiting carriages and throng the unpretentious foyer with all the brilliance of a West End theater crowd. ”

“ The actress whispered into Sprague's ear, and he stiffened perceptibly.
“Some one ought to murder the little beast,” he said.
“If they did, we should lose the best stage manager in London. No, no, my gallant Queenscliff playwright, for such slings and arrows of outrageous stage managers are we actresses fitted with the beauty of Venus, the grace of Diana, and the hide of a rhinoceros. ”

“ Sprague hurried on to the theater in the mixed company of his thoughts. The chance meeting with his father had simply shown him that he could no longer be a dabbler, dipping into work when and where he pleased. It must be real work now, a hard, ceaseless grind for his daily bread. He laughed at the thought that a paltry two hundred and fifty a year could so completely alter the aspect of things. ”