Page:Angna Enters - Among the Daughters.djvu/375

 until yesterday. Beman wouldn't rent his because he's mad at me for not going with the show to Chicago. Theatre owners don't like to tie up a theatre for a single performance too long in advance. I tried to get us a concert manager but I found out they aren't experienced with theatre dance recitals—they know only about Carnegie or Aeolian Hall. Well, yesterday Sam Melitz, a house manager for Joe Samuels, told us the ropes and talked Joe into letting us rent the Langtry, which is where Sam is, though we didn't want such a big musical house. I've hired Eddie Smith, the press agent, but Vida is really doing most of the work. I don't know what we'd do without her, especially the next three weeks, so don't you keep her too busy."

"I had hoped you would have a small elegant theatre. You must see to it that there is a chic audience."

It was easy for Figente to lie there and make suggestions, she thought. "Listen, this show is going to be so much more expensive than I thought, anyone who buys a ticket is chic to me."

"That is not the proper attitude. You must invite people, select people, and keep it exclusive so that your performance is talked about by the right people."

"You sound like a concert manager who said recitals always have to be papered. That doesn't sound professional to me."

"Nevertheless, you must invite people who otherwise wouldn't dream of going to anything before it's a huge success. I will give Boswell a list of names and she can enclose my card along with an engraved invitation which you must have made. Tiffany will do them. They must be the size and quality of wedding invitations so they won't be thrown in wastebaskets unopened as advertisements."

She gaped in consternation. "You mean our printed announcements won't be opened? I always open everything."

"Not by the people you will wish to be present."

"I don't think Vida can take on one more thing, but I'll think it over tonight."

"Who's talking about me?" Vida panted, sitting down on a low chair, her face flushed.

"You're out of breath," Lucy scolded.

"I hurried, that's all," Vida cut her short.

"You're tired out, I'll bet Figente works you too hard."

"Oh no, he really doesn't," Vida protested uneasily.

"May I remind you both that I am here," Figente said acidly.

"I wish you would give Vida a few days off so she doesn't have to work all night on the recital," Lucy said. Rh