"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 288 - Merry Mrs.MacBeth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

these, he glanced at the sheet, crumpled it and tossed it into a wastebasket.

"How much will Harthorne have in the show. Terry?"

"About a quarter million, including what he's letting a few small-fry toss in as a favor to them."

"That's about what I figure." Thurland gave a nod. "How much would you appraise it for?"

"As a bankrupt job? Twenty grand at best. About ten percent is tops for scenery that fits nobody's order
and costumes that are only good for moth feed. Only this rates below regular."

"Because of unnecessary expenditures?"

"Right. Like two complete sets of gowns and what-not for Lady Macbeth because Vera and Joy don't
shape the same. And extra stage equipment like that hoist for the cauldron set I was just telling you
about."

Thurland made a few more notations, then gave his head a slow, sad shake.

"Too bad, that scandal business, Terry."

"You mean chances of a run in between Alan and Harthorne over that Trevose dame?"

"Exactly. It might ruin a good show, Terry. So good a show"--Thurland reached for the telephone; then
laid it aside--"so good a show that I was almost going to call Harthorne and ask for a half interest as
co-producer. But no, it wouldn't do."

As though finding a straight business deal impossible, Thurland made a few notations on another sheet of
his pad; then suggested:

"Do you know, if Joy Trevose left the show, it would really solve Harthorne's problem. Maybe she ought
to take that Little Theatre tour with Alan Fenway. We could get another leading man for Merry Mrs.
Macbeth."

"Only there wouldn't be any Merry Mrs.," returned Dundee. "Harthorne would really junk the works if
Joy quit--"

Dundee caught himself with that one. He was carrying the ball a lot too fast.

"I've been reviving some old time musicals lately," remarked Thurland, reflectively. "Odd the public
doesn't appreciate such fine shows the way they should."

Dundee could have told Thurland why. If anyone could trade on a name in name only, that gentleman
was Meigs Thurland.

"Picture it, Terry!" Thurland continued, spreading an arm as though casting a sweeping panorama on the
opposite wall. "A grand new musical offering under the aegis of Meigs Thurland, with the startling title of
Merry Mrs. Macbeth!"

Dundee didn't know what aegis meant, but the rest of the picture pleased him.