Page:Levenson - Butterfly Man.djvu/145



THE curtain fell on the last act. The company laughed, cheered, embraced, kissed each other. Norah flung her arms about Ken's neck. The chorus girls danced with the boys. The show was a hit. Howard, in evening clothes, was dragged out of Rosemary Rose's dressing-room. He looked pale but was smiling broadly.

"Thank God it's over!" he said. "And thanks to all of you. The chorus can go home and get some sleep. I want to talk to the principals."

Girls and boys drifted away. "I wanted you to have a little champagne with me tonight," he told those who remained on stage. "You deserve it. You were wonderful. What say?"

They readily agreed. Visitors were arriving. The elegance of the first-nighters made the artificially ornate costumes of the players seem shabby. Henry Colman appeared. He put his arm around Howard's shoulders and called him a sly dog who had put something over on an old-timer. A hit—and the theatre would receive only a thousand dollars a week. Mike Vee proudly gazed at his son. He laughed at Colman's annoyance. "My boy," he said, "is a genius. The world is his."

At midnight, the party began. Mike Vee sat beside his son; at Howard's left was Ken. Then Rosemary Rose. The guests were in a semi-circle about a banquet table on the