Sir John Pilgrim had,
as Marrier predicted, attended to the advertisements. But Edward Henry
had helped. And on the day itself the evening newspapers had taken the
bit between their teeth and run off with the affair at a great pace.
The affair was on all the contents-bills hours before it actually
happened. Edward Henry had been interviewed several times, and had
rather enjoyed that. Gradually he had perceived that his novel idea
for a corner-stone-laying had caught the facile imagination of the
London populace. For that night at least he was famous--as famous as
anybody!
Sir John had made a wondrous picturesque figure of himself as, in a
raised corner of the crowded and beflagged marquee, he had flourished
a trowel, and talked about the great and enlightened public, and about
the highest function of the drama, and about the duty of the artist to
elevate, and about the solemn responsibility of theatrical managers,
and about the absence of petty jealousies in the world of the stage.
Everybody had vociferously applauded, while reporters turned rapidly
the pages of their note-books. "Ass!" Edward Henry had said to himself
with much force and sincerity--meaning Sir John--but he too had
vociferously applauded; for he was from the Five Towns, and in the
Five Towns people are like that! Then Sir John had declared the
corner-stone well and truly laid (it was on the corner which the
electric sign of the future was destined to occupy), and after being
thanked had wandered off, shaking hands here and there absently, to
arrive at length in the office of the clerk-of-the-works, where Edward
Henry had arranged suitably to refresh the stone-layer and a few
choice friends of both sexes.
Pages:
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244