The electric light at its point of junction with the main street does not
penetrate half-way to the stage entrance, and the blackness thereabout is
diluted with the rays of the lonely, indifferent gas-lamp that projects
above the old wooden door. Farther on, an old-fashioned street-lamp marks
the place where the alley turns to wind about until it eventually reaches
another main street.
This dark region, the feeble lamp above the stage door, the shadows
opposite, have a peculiar charm, especially at night. One would not think
that within that door is a short corridor leading to the mystic realm which
the people "in front" idealize into a wonderful inaccessible country,
the playworld. Back here, especially on a rainy night and before the
playworld's inhabitants begin to sally forth to partake of terrestrial beer
and sandwiches, one seems millions of miles away from the crowds of men and
women in the theatre and from the illumined street in front.
The ordinary world, when passing this strange place, peers in curiously
from the main street. Sometimes folks wait at the corner of the street
to see the stage people come out.
Pages:
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215