then by a narrow passage they made their way to the back of the little stage.
"This young lady wants to speak to the dancer," he explained to the manager of the show, who combined in his one person scene shifter, prompter, ladies' maid, electrician and curtain raiser. He was engaged at the time in hooking up the dress of a young woman soon to go on in the one-act play with which the performance closed.
'You mean Nell Morgan? Sure, you can speak to her. She'll have to answer her encore first. Nell always gets an encore on that dagger dance."
They waited for what seemed an interminable time to Rebecca while the music again pulled her heartstrings with memories of the death of her stepfather. Over at last! The dancer came tripping behind the scenes.
"Party wants to speak to you!" said the manager over his shoulder as he slid on some scenery.
"Me? I don't know a soul in this God-and-man-forsaken burg."
Rebecca came forward. "Don't you know me, Mamma?"
"I'm not anybody's Mamma, thank goodness! Guess again, kid! Why, bless my soul, if it
