damage suits, from the two cities
in which the company had been booked for the two past weeks.
Had Bobby not bound himself irrevocably to contracts which made him
liable for the salaries of every member of this company for the next
twenty weeks, he would have withdrawn instantly at the first hint of
these suits; but, now that he was in for it, he promptly compromised
them at a rate which made Spratt furious.
"If I'd thought," said Spratt angrily in the privacy of the Orpheum
office, "that you were sucker enough to get roped in for the full
season, I'd have tossed you out of the running for this week. This
game is a bigger gamble than the Stock Exchange. The smartest
producers in the business never know when they have a winner or a
loser. More than that, while all actors are hard to handle, of all the
combinations on earth, a grand opera company is the worst. I'll bet a
couple of cold bottles that before you're a week on the road you'll
have leaks in your dirigible over some crazy dramatic stunts that are
not in the book of any opera of the Neapolitan repertoire."
The prediction was so true that it was proved that very night, which
was Friday, during the repetition of _Carmen_. It seemed that Biff
Bates, by means of the supreme dominance of the Caravaggio, had been
made free of the stage, a rare privilege, and one that enabled Biff to
spend his time, under unusual and romantic circumstances, very much in
the company of the Celtic Signorina; all of which was very much to the
annoyance, distress and fury of Signor Ricardo, especially on _Carmen_
night. At all other times the great Ricardo thought very well indeed
of the Signorina Nora, only being in any degree near to unfaithfulness
when, on _Aida_ nights, he sang to vivacious little Madam Villenauve;
but on _Carmen_ nights he was devotedly, passionately, madly in love
with the divine Car-r-r-r-avaggio! Else how could he sing the
magnificent second act aria? Life without her on those nights would be
a hollow mockery, the glance of any possible rival in her direction a
desecration. Why, he even had to restrain himself to keep from doing
actual damage to Philippi, who, though on the shady side of
forty-five, still sang a most dashing Escamillo; nor was his jealousy
less poignant because Philippi and Caravaggio were sworn enemies.
Thus it may be understood--by any one, at least, who has ever loved
ecstatically and fervidly and even hectically, like the great
Ricardo--
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