He tried to grin his way out of it but this time Mimi was out for blood — that and publicity. “Very well,” she said, “then I will!” She stood up and beckoned. “Call Mr. Nathan,” she told one of the hostesses.
“Good evening,” said Mr. Nathan a moment later. “Anything I can do for you?”
“Yes,” said Mimi in a clear voice. “I’d like to smoke this cigaret. Have you a light by any chance?” She stared at him defiantly.
Mr. Nathan saw a neat little sign tacked against a post. It read “Absolutely No Smoking.” But “Certainly, certainly,” said Mr. Nathan, and dug a little gold lighter out of his pocket. When he tried to light it, though, it shed sparks all over the place.
“Be careful of my dress,” cautioned Mimi sharply. Wally, sensing his opportunity, whipped out an everyday case of matches and accomplished the thing in no time at all.
“Thanks,” she said, with a sullen look at the proprietor.
“I don’t know what’s the matter with it,” he apologized. “It never stalled like this before.”
“No,” she agreed cynically, “never.”
“Something must be wrong with the tinder,” he mumbled to himself as he moved off with his neck bent over it. Wally and Mimi looked at one another and smiled pityingly.
“Isn’t he the wet one!” said Wally. “He’s dripping,” she agreed.
At this juncture Connie appeared before them with a decided pout on her face.
“I’m ready to go now, cake,” she announced, pulling the rhinestone bag from underneath Mimi’s nose.
“Well,” he said ungraciously, “and what am I supposed to do — break out in a rash?” And Mimi, guessing that the dance tickets were also Connie’s property, pushed them angrily off the table with her elbow. They fell to the floor.
“Say, look out what you’re doing,” snapped Connie, bending over to pick them up.
“I beg your pardon?” said Mimi haughtily.
“You certainly should,” Connie told her. She turned to Wally. “Well, make up your mind,” she advised him.
“What’s all the rush about?” he remarked. “What do you think you are, my time-table? Wise up to yourself.”
“All right, cake,” she said easily, almost tenderly. “You’ll get over it in time.”
She turned her back on the two of them. At the door Mimi saw her crumple the tickets in her fist and throw them away from her. But Wally only had eyes for his Mimi. She was the same and yet she was not the same. The clown make-up was gone. She was neat and restful to the eyes. She had lavender silk stockings; she had a gold ring around her ankle; she had a bang slicked down to the bridge of her nose. But he couldn’t forget how she had looked with the little terrier clasped in her arms. He couldn’t forget that she had stood there on the stage and everyone had laughed at her while her heart was slowly breaking. He kept telling himself that her castle of dreams had come tumbling down just as his had, over and over again. Therefore they were brother and sister under the skin.
“Don’t take it so hard,” laughed Mimi, thinking he was worried about Connie. “She’ll come back; they all do.” She stood up, and she was very tall and slim. “Afraid I’ll have to go now.”
“Can I see you to the door?” he asked.
“Only to the door?” she said, and her eyelashes swept him good-naturedly up and down.
“I meant to your door.”
And as they went out, he could hear the band playing softly and sweetly:
The following evening the fun-loving Mimi Travers, of New York and Philly but still not of points west, was the center of interest of a very lively group of friends who had gathered in her dressing room before the beginning of the show.
“He thinks,” she was telling them, “I’m really the way I’m supposed to be when I sing that song. Sort of dumb and weepy, know what I mean?”
“He must be goofy,” they chorused. “What a sap. What a bone.”
“He is,” Mimi assured them. “Probably he likes them that way. So when I found that out, I started right in to emote. Last night when we were coming out of the dance hall a stray cat came along and began rubbing itself against me so I broke down and cried for his benefit—”
Screams of laughter drowned her voice. The idea of Mimi crying about anything seemed to strike them as being extremely funny.
“You should have heard me,” she protested. “All I kept repeating was ‘What’s the use, what’s the use, ’s a cruel world,’ and he dried my eyes and called me his Cinderella. How’s that for a riot?”
“Horses!” they gasped hysterically, burying their faces on one another’s shoulders. “Oh, you Red Riding Hood! Little Eva!”
There was a warning knock on the door. “Curtain goes up in five more minutes.” Mimi quickly wheeled round and began rouging her cheeks with a rabbit’s paw. But she was still smiling at the huge joke.
At the end of the one week stand Wally was walking on air and living up in the clouds. But Mimi was all packed and ready to leave with the rest of the company. He was sitting out front again the night of the farewell performance — he had seen the show every night that week — and as the house lights went on, he edged his way out through a side door and around to the stage entrance. Backstage everything was in an uproar: sets being taken down and moved about, people getting in each other’s way, stagehands in overalls rubbing shoulders with girls in gorgeous evening gowns. He found Mimi’s door and knocked.
“Hello?” she called out. “What do you want?”
“It’s me, Mimi.”
There was a slight hesitation in her voice as she answered. “I’m busy right now. Can you wait?”
He noticed the drop in her voice. He opened the door and went ahead in.
She was in a tailored traveling suit with a red patent leather belt which made her look about fifteen. Her baggage was piled in a heap in the center of the room, and she was sweeping things from the dressing table into the last open suitcase.
“Didn’t you hear me tell you I was busy?” she said angrily. “What’s the grand idea? What do you take this place for, a corner drug store?”
“I’ve got to talk to you,” he said.
“Haven’t got time to talk.”
“I thought you were coming up to the Rainbow with me. It’s Saturday night.”
“I wouldn’t care if it was Christmas Eve. I’ve got to make that train.” She saw the look on his face and it softened her for a moment. “What’s the matter with you, cakie? You knew this was a one-week stand all along. We’re due to open Monday night—” And now the castle of dreams really came tumbling down, with a terrible crash that no one could hear but himself. He stood there dazed while a couple of stagehands came in and carried her baggage outside for her.
“Get a taxi if you want to take me to the train,” she said shortly. Her one moment of sentiment was over and gone.
They got into the taxi and drove to the railroad station. He looked out of one window and she looked out of the other. Neither of them spoke. When she was comfortably installed in the Pullman, she took off her hat and straightened her hair without paying any attention to him.
“Stay over just one more day—” he pleaded.
“My reservation’s paid for.”
“I haven’t told you, but can’t you guess why — why I hate to see you go?” he faltered.
“Sure I can guess,” she said confidently. “You’re keen on me, is that it?”