"
Old Yorick stood for a moment speechless, stung by the insult. Then he took
up his hat, excitedly, and left the dressing-room without a word.
Some of the other members of the company wondered at the angry, flushed
look on his face when he hurried through the corridor to the stage door.
A few minutes later he was seen walking down the street, apparently much
heated in mind. When he reached a certain cafe he went in, sat down, and
called for whiskey. He remained alone in deep thought, mechanically and
unconsciously answering the salutations bestowed upon him by two or three
acquaintances who strolled in. Suddenly he nodded thrice, as if denoting
the acquiescence of his judgment in some plan of action formed by his
inventive faculty. He rose quickly, paid his bill at the cashier's desk,
and moved rapidly across the street to the ---- Hotel. Passing in through a
broad entrance, he turned aside to a writing-room, where, without removing
his soft hat, he sat down at a desk.
He was soon immersed in the composition of a letter, which caused him many
contractions of the brow, many lapses during which he abstractedly stared
at vacancy, many fresh beginnings, and the whole of the two hours allowed
him before the evening's performance for dinner.
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