"
As we went I told him the rest of the story--the Angela part. He laid
down his portmanteau and looked at me like an owl through his glasses.
"What!" he said. "Why, hang it, this is a play, ready-made. It's the
old 'Tiny Hand' business. Always safe stuff. Parted lovers. Lisping
child. Reconciliation over the little cradle. It's big. Child, centre.
Girl L.C.; Freddie, up stage, by the piano. Can Freddie play the
piano?"
"He can play a little of 'The Rosary' with one finger."
Jimmy shook his head.
"No; we shall have to cut out the soft music. But the rest's all right.
Look here." He squatted in the sand. "This stone is the girl. This bit
of seaweed's the child. This nutshell is Freddie. Dialogue leading up
to child's line. Child speaks like, 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?'
Business of outstretched hands. Hold picture for a moment. Freddie crosses
L., takes girl's hand. Business of swallowing lump in throat. Then big
speech. 'Ah, Marie,' or whatever her name is--Jane--Agnes--Angela? Very
well. 'Ah, Angela, has not this gone on too long? A little child rebukes
us! Angela!' And so on. Freddie must work up his own part. I'm just
giving you the general outline. And we must get a good line for the
child. 'Boofer lady, does 'oo love dadda?' isn't definite enough. We
want something more--ah! 'Kiss Freddie,' that's it. Short, crisp, and
has the punch.
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