Page 48 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

Theo climbed the steps to the next floor practically trembling with anticipation.

“These are dressing rooms,” Clem commented flatly, gesturing to left and right. Theo slowed her steps to read the handwritten notices pinned to the doors. The first one read, “Roberto Russo.” She turned her head to look quizzically at Clem.

“Magician,” he said succinctly.

The next was labeled, “Stimson & Holland.” “Comedy act?” she hazarded.

“Quite right.”

The next four doors were all labeled, “D.G.” “What do the initials stand for?” Theo asked in puzzled tones.

Clem cleared his throat. “Dancing girls,” he explained.

“Ohhh.” She nodded in comprehension. “Misc,”she read aloud from the next three doors. “Miscellaneous, what?”

“Acts. Temporary turns we’re giving a trial run. We have quite a fast turnover. The paying public gets easily bored. You have to have real staying power to get your actual name on the door.”

“Ah, I see. So, Lil and I will be in one of those rooms at first?” Clem did not answer. “Miss Florrie Foss,”the next door boasted. “Your star turn,” Theo remembered. Clem nodded. The final door read, “L. Burgess.” “Who is L. Burgess?” Theo asked.

“Larry, the announcer,” Clem informed her. “He might be here, but none of the others will until tonight. I’ll have to introduce you to the rest at some later time.”

Theo was disappointed but not altogether surprised. Clem rapped at the door. “Come in, if you must!” called back an irritable voice.

Clem threw open the door to reveal a scruffy man sprawled in a shapeless chair and clad in a silk dressing gown which had known better days. His bare legs protruded from beneath it, showing a lot of hair and a pair of filthy soled feet, propped up on a ratty-looking footstool. A smelly cigar hung from his mouth, and he was reading a newspaper with a sneer on his face.

The man’s rather sour expression at once rearranged itself into one of affability. “Ah, Mr. Dabney!” he cried, casting down his broadsheet and scrambling to his feet. “Come in, come in.” He subjected Theo to a quick look, before dismissing her altogether.

Clem caught Theo’s elbow and they took one step inside the room. “Burgess,” he said coolly. “I came to introduce you to my wife.”

Burgess’s face froze. “Your wife …?” He glanced once more at Theo, clearly stupefied. Catching sight of Clem’s face, he said quickly, “Delighted, delighted. I had no idea you were even married, dear chap.”

Clem shrugged and Theo noted he did not explain that this was a recent state of affairs.

“Mr. Burgess, I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said politely.

“Dear lady,” he said approaching and taking her hand as though to kiss it. Theo hastily seized his in her customary handshake which seemed to confuse him. “Er quite, quite,” he said, reclaiming his hand and wincing slightly.

Clem nodded and, tightening his grip on Theo’s upper arm, firmly maneuvered her back out of the room.

“I imagine Mr. Burgess’ charm must be more apparent when he is treading the boards,” Theo commented as they reached the end of the corridor and Clem flung open another door to another flight of stairs.

He uttered a short laugh. “You could put it that way. He’s a damn good compere, otherwise, I would not pay his wage.”

“I do not understand why he is here at this hour when none of the other performers are. It is not as though he is practicing his craft,” she pointed out when Clem did not answer at once.

“He has a wife and six children,” Clem said briefly. “And he is not noticeably fond of any of them.” He eyed her curiously. “Incidentally, where did you learn to shake hands like that?” he asked.

Theo tipped her head to one side. “I suppose I observed how you gentlemen do it. We women are never tutored in the art, you know. It always seemed to me that men do not let their hands merely lie limply within each other’s fingers but instead take an assertive role.”

Clem’s lips twitched and she thought for a moment he would laugh. “Quite right,” he said at last and gestured for her to climb the stairs winding upward.

“Will we come along tonight?” she asked hopefully, looking back over her shoulder. “To watch I mean?”

Clem was quiet a moment. “Let’s see how things turn out with your brother,” he said at last.

“Oh yes.” In all the excitement, she had almost forgotten about Felix. Her mood would have taken a decided downturn, if not for the fact she had emerged into the auditorium. She gasped audibly and was still gazing about the large hall with its neat little stage and the row upon row of closely stacked wooden chairs when Clem emerged behind her. “Oh, it’s wonderful Clem!” she exclaimed, turning about. “You even have a gallery,” she said gazing up at the upper level.

He looked skeptical. “It’s nothing to compare to The Parthenon,” he said, scratching his neck. She supposed she knew what he meant, for there were no fancy flounces or pelmet on the plain black curtain, no wings even to conceal the next act. There were no fancy columns, no gold paint, and no chandeliers. Still, Theo could not disagree more strongly.