The Primadonna by F. Marion (Francis Marion) Crawford
page 9 of 391 (02%)
page 9 of 391 (02%)
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dead but for your superb coolness! Ah, you are indeed a great woman!'
Schreiermeyer's business ear had caught the figures. As they walked, each with an arm through one of the Primadonna's, he leaned back and spoke to Stromboli behind her head. 'How the devil do you know what the house was?' he asked sharply. 'I always know,' answered the Italian in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone. 'My dresser finds out from the box-office. I never take the C sharp if there are less than three thousand.' 'I'll stop that!' growled Schreiermeyer. 'As you please!' Stromboli shrugged his massive shoulders. 'C sharp is not in the engagement!' 'It shall be in the next! I won't sign without it!' 'I won't sign at all!' retorted the tenor with a sneer of superiority. 'You need not talk of conditions, for I shall not come to America again!' 'Oh, do stop quarrelling!' laughed Cordova as they reached the door of her box, for she had heard similar amenities exchanged twenty times already, and she knew that they meant nothing at all on either side. 'Have you any beer?' inquired Stromboli of the Primadonna, as if nothing had happened. |
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