This ingenious suggestion had the effect of depriving the producer
momentarily of speech, and while he was struggling for utterance, there
dashed out from the wings a gorgeous being in blue velvet and a hat of
such unimpeachable smartness that Sally ached at the sight of it with a
spasm of pure envy.

"Say!"

Miss Mabel Hobson had practically every personal advantage which nature
can bestow with the exception of a musical voice. Her figure was
perfect, her face beautiful, and her hair a mass of spun gold; but her
voice in moments of emotion was the voice of a peacock.

"Say, listen to me for just one moment!"

Mr. Bunbury recovered from his trance.

"Miss Hobson! Please!"

"Yes, that's all very well..."

"You are interrupting the rehearsal."

"You bet your sorrowful existence I'm interrupting the rehearsal,"
agreed Miss Hobson, with emphasis. "And, if you want to make a little
easy money, you go and bet somebody ten seeds that I'm going to
interrupt it again every time there's any talk of writing up any darned
part in the show except mine. Write up other people's parts? Not while I
have my strength!"