Page:The Blind Bow-Boy (IA blindbowboy00vanv).pdf/147

 the b-b-b-boy: Madeleine Carlier. It is b-b-better so. It makes the piece more perverse.

And what am I to play?

Xantippe or Myrrha. . . . Zimbule must play the boy, Clinias.

You seem more interested in casting Zimbule than in arranging a part for me, Campaspe bantered.

You shall play Myrrha. It is the b-b-b-best rôle.

Do I have scenes with you?

With me, with Zimbule, with everybody. There are two servants, but their parts present no difficulty, and a dancer. I can arrange that. A Byzantine Afternoon! What an opera for New York! July is already the season.

If you can get an audience, put in Paul.

Ah! They will come in f-f-from the mountains. They will rush over from London. The Aquitania will b-b-bulge.

There's no part for me, I take it, Paul remarked.

You can be a stage-hand; Harold, an electrician.

He will have to join the union, said Campaspe. Then, more seriously. There's something there. None of you understands Harold. I like the boy.

So do I, said Paul.

Firebird, we all d-d-do, protested the Duke. And I understand him. He is like a silver flamingo.

A silver flamingo?

Yes, glowing, glamourous, shining—like Galahad