[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
to have work to do was sweeter yet.
Julian tossed the ball up in the air again, his
answering grin and swift wink broad enough that Alex
suspected some trick had been played on Duncan. He
recalled his father telling him some animals could never
be driven, only led.
"Take back your ball and behave yourself, Pippin.
When Duncan releases you, come and find me. I have a
rehearsal, though, so I can't promise that I'll be free for
some time. And do not, for the sake of your skin and
mine, interrupt if we're on stage."
The ball flew through the air and Alex caught it
without thinking, his hands recognizing what he'd made,
even after so short an acquaintance.
"He'll be fine," Duncan said. "Now go before
Cranston comes looking for you."
"A fate to be feared. See me quake. Duncan. Alex." A
bow that encompassed them both and Julian was gone,
leaving the room duller for his absence.
"Who is Master Cranston?" Alex asked Duncan
tentatively.
"Roger Cranston? He's the director for Silence Falls."
"I thought a Master Sampton--"
Duncan shook his head, no trace of impatience with
Alex's ignorance showing. "No, he owns the theater. He
oversees the plays sometimes, but mostly he deals with
the running of the place. I'll take you to him later and
have your name entered on the wage bill."
"Thank you." Alex realized he hadn't thanked
Duncan for his job. He opened his mouth to do so, but
Duncan interrupted him before he'd stumbled through
his first words.
Spoken from the Heart - 72
"I want work from you, lad, not thanks. Sweep the
place clean, and I'll show you the set plans for Silence.
They're going to take some skill to fashion, but between
us we'll manage. The old sets for it are no good. Mice
have nibbled them and the damp spoiled the paint.
Besides, I can do better." Duncan grinned. "I helped to
make them, and I've improved somewhat since then."
Alex smiled back shyly, but Duncan had already
moved away. A broom in his hand, the scent of sawdust
and paint thick in his throat, Alex set to work, humming
tunelessly under his breath.
***
Alex sank down into his seat, his face burning. He'd
tripped over three pairs of legs on his way along the row,
but that wasn't the cause of his embarrassment. He
craned his neck and took another look at the woman
who'd shown him to his seat, all smiles because she was
a friend of Julian's and seemed to have taken a fancy to
Alex, too, judging by the soft squeeze his hand had
gotten. She was talking to another patron, her pretty face
animated, her golden hair gleaming in the soft light.
And her legs exposed up to her---
Well, customs differed. At home, women and men
dressed simply, with an eye to comfort, economy, and
practicality. Women's dresses fell in straight, clean lines
to below the knee in summer, and in winter, when the
snows came, they added a pair of thick, warm stockings.
The younger girls, looking to attract a husband, would
wear a woven belt, subtly drawing the eye to a neat
waist or the gentle swell of their breasts, or lower the
scooped neckline an inch or two. The older women
Spoken from the Heart - 73
would tut and shake their heads, but with an indulgent
air.
The usher -- Polly -- was in what looked to be a
uniform of sorts, a black silk dress, the skirt wide and
falling to within a bare inch of the floor. White facings
on the bodice livened the dark color and were repeated
on the wide cuffs of the sleeves. To Alex's eyes, the
dress was fine enough for any lady, but for the hem,
which swooped up at the front, exposing Polly's legs to
mid-thigh. The front of the skirt was, to all intents and
purposes, missing and Alex could only picture his
mother's reaction were she to see it.
Reminding himself that only the ignorant condemned
without reason and only a child was permitted to stare
open-mouthed with wonder, he gripped the arms of his
chair and gazed fixedly at the stage.
His lips parted on a sigh. The deep blue velvet of the
curtain was like a door waiting to be opened and beyond
it lay, he was sure, a land of enchantment. Transfixed by
the prospect -- and the chance to see Julian in his
element -- Alex let his excitement show, a delighted
smile curving his mouth.
"Young man, might I trouble you to retrieve my
spectacle case?"
Alex turned to his left and found himself being
addressed by his neighbor, one of the people whose feet
he hadn't trampled, a slight, elderly gentleman, stick-
thin and dressed in formal wear so antique in design
even Alex realized its age. The man smelled of camphor,
but a few moth holes still showed here and there on his
black velvet jacket and the lace foaming at his throat
was yellowed, though crisp and clean.
A thin leather case had fallen to the floor between
them, and Alex, with a friendly smile, bent to pick it up,
Spoken from the Heart - 74
returning it to its owner with a bob of his head.
"Thank you. If I'd attempted that, it would have been the
end of the second act before I straightened."
The man's voice was dry and thin, but clear and
assured enough to remind Alex of the teacher who'd
taught him his letters. Silver hair was drawn back neatly
and confined with a black bow, and the gray eyes
peering at Alex were lively.
"My mother used to make my father drink ginger tea
when his back stiffened," Alex offered.
"Really! And did it prove efficacious?"
Alex laughed. "He went back to work to avoid
drinking more, so I suppose it did." Sobering, he added,
"But, yes, I do believe it helped. My mother is known
for being a healer, and she would not have wasted time
on a remedy that didn't work."
"I will instruct my cook to prepare some tomorrow,
and we will see if I too benefit from her undoubted
wisdom."
The formality of the gentleman's language made Alex
want to respond in kind, not from any desire to impress,
but simply because the old man deserved a matching
courtesy. Shyness bound his tongue after his initial
words, and he turned his head to glance again at the
stage, uneasy that he'd been too free with his advice to a
stranger.
His worries vanished when the gentleman addressed
him again. "You are fond of this play?"
"Why, I don't know." Alex shook his head at the
ineptness of his reply. "Forgive me. I'm not usually so
scatter-brained. To tell you the truth, this is the very first
play I've attended, and all I know of this one is that it's a
Spoken from the Heart - 75
comedy. I -- a friend of mine has a part in it, and he
arranged -- so kind! -- for me to have this seat." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl ocenkijessi.opx.pl
to have work to do was sweeter yet.
Julian tossed the ball up in the air again, his
answering grin and swift wink broad enough that Alex
suspected some trick had been played on Duncan. He
recalled his father telling him some animals could never
be driven, only led.
"Take back your ball and behave yourself, Pippin.
When Duncan releases you, come and find me. I have a
rehearsal, though, so I can't promise that I'll be free for
some time. And do not, for the sake of your skin and
mine, interrupt if we're on stage."
The ball flew through the air and Alex caught it
without thinking, his hands recognizing what he'd made,
even after so short an acquaintance.
"He'll be fine," Duncan said. "Now go before
Cranston comes looking for you."
"A fate to be feared. See me quake. Duncan. Alex." A
bow that encompassed them both and Julian was gone,
leaving the room duller for his absence.
"Who is Master Cranston?" Alex asked Duncan
tentatively.
"Roger Cranston? He's the director for Silence Falls."
"I thought a Master Sampton--"
Duncan shook his head, no trace of impatience with
Alex's ignorance showing. "No, he owns the theater. He
oversees the plays sometimes, but mostly he deals with
the running of the place. I'll take you to him later and
have your name entered on the wage bill."
"Thank you." Alex realized he hadn't thanked
Duncan for his job. He opened his mouth to do so, but
Duncan interrupted him before he'd stumbled through
his first words.
Spoken from the Heart - 72
"I want work from you, lad, not thanks. Sweep the
place clean, and I'll show you the set plans for Silence.
They're going to take some skill to fashion, but between
us we'll manage. The old sets for it are no good. Mice
have nibbled them and the damp spoiled the paint.
Besides, I can do better." Duncan grinned. "I helped to
make them, and I've improved somewhat since then."
Alex smiled back shyly, but Duncan had already
moved away. A broom in his hand, the scent of sawdust
and paint thick in his throat, Alex set to work, humming
tunelessly under his breath.
***
Alex sank down into his seat, his face burning. He'd
tripped over three pairs of legs on his way along the row,
but that wasn't the cause of his embarrassment. He
craned his neck and took another look at the woman
who'd shown him to his seat, all smiles because she was
a friend of Julian's and seemed to have taken a fancy to
Alex, too, judging by the soft squeeze his hand had
gotten. She was talking to another patron, her pretty face
animated, her golden hair gleaming in the soft light.
And her legs exposed up to her---
Well, customs differed. At home, women and men
dressed simply, with an eye to comfort, economy, and
practicality. Women's dresses fell in straight, clean lines
to below the knee in summer, and in winter, when the
snows came, they added a pair of thick, warm stockings.
The younger girls, looking to attract a husband, would
wear a woven belt, subtly drawing the eye to a neat
waist or the gentle swell of their breasts, or lower the
scooped neckline an inch or two. The older women
Spoken from the Heart - 73
would tut and shake their heads, but with an indulgent
air.
The usher -- Polly -- was in what looked to be a
uniform of sorts, a black silk dress, the skirt wide and
falling to within a bare inch of the floor. White facings
on the bodice livened the dark color and were repeated
on the wide cuffs of the sleeves. To Alex's eyes, the
dress was fine enough for any lady, but for the hem,
which swooped up at the front, exposing Polly's legs to
mid-thigh. The front of the skirt was, to all intents and
purposes, missing and Alex could only picture his
mother's reaction were she to see it.
Reminding himself that only the ignorant condemned
without reason and only a child was permitted to stare
open-mouthed with wonder, he gripped the arms of his
chair and gazed fixedly at the stage.
His lips parted on a sigh. The deep blue velvet of the
curtain was like a door waiting to be opened and beyond
it lay, he was sure, a land of enchantment. Transfixed by
the prospect -- and the chance to see Julian in his
element -- Alex let his excitement show, a delighted
smile curving his mouth.
"Young man, might I trouble you to retrieve my
spectacle case?"
Alex turned to his left and found himself being
addressed by his neighbor, one of the people whose feet
he hadn't trampled, a slight, elderly gentleman, stick-
thin and dressed in formal wear so antique in design
even Alex realized its age. The man smelled of camphor,
but a few moth holes still showed here and there on his
black velvet jacket and the lace foaming at his throat
was yellowed, though crisp and clean.
A thin leather case had fallen to the floor between
them, and Alex, with a friendly smile, bent to pick it up,
Spoken from the Heart - 74
returning it to its owner with a bob of his head.
"Thank you. If I'd attempted that, it would have been the
end of the second act before I straightened."
The man's voice was dry and thin, but clear and
assured enough to remind Alex of the teacher who'd
taught him his letters. Silver hair was drawn back neatly
and confined with a black bow, and the gray eyes
peering at Alex were lively.
"My mother used to make my father drink ginger tea
when his back stiffened," Alex offered.
"Really! And did it prove efficacious?"
Alex laughed. "He went back to work to avoid
drinking more, so I suppose it did." Sobering, he added,
"But, yes, I do believe it helped. My mother is known
for being a healer, and she would not have wasted time
on a remedy that didn't work."
"I will instruct my cook to prepare some tomorrow,
and we will see if I too benefit from her undoubted
wisdom."
The formality of the gentleman's language made Alex
want to respond in kind, not from any desire to impress,
but simply because the old man deserved a matching
courtesy. Shyness bound his tongue after his initial
words, and he turned his head to glance again at the
stage, uneasy that he'd been too free with his advice to a
stranger.
His worries vanished when the gentleman addressed
him again. "You are fond of this play?"
"Why, I don't know." Alex shook his head at the
ineptness of his reply. "Forgive me. I'm not usually so
scatter-brained. To tell you the truth, this is the very first
play I've attended, and all I know of this one is that it's a
Spoken from the Heart - 75
comedy. I -- a friend of mine has a part in it, and he
arranged -- so kind! -- for me to have this seat." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]