is exhausted, bad-tempered, and hated by every one.
“Begin again,” he says with disgust.
“Clara! Something unexpected has happened to me!”
“What has happened to you?” whispers Clara, without any voice at all.
Heavily and joylessly the dress rehearsal drags on.
“Wrong!” croaks the producer, “ back. You must enter quicker.”
Weariness fills the players. Their legs begin to wobble. Their voices begin to stick in their throats. Memory suddenly fails them. Will it never end?
“Back,” thunders the producer, “you are hiding your partner.”
Oh! if it were only at an end. The words are rattled out in feverish haste. The producer tries to interrupt, but only succeeds in making helpless signs with his hands. He wipes the cold sweat from his brow. The end.
The players creep silently out of the
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