Part 41 (2/2)
She began to glance through them.
”My dear, I've asked you for coffee twice.”
”These are powerful and ugly. Think of Jarvis seeing these things.”
”Coffee,” reiterated the Professor.
”Yes, yes. You must read these. They're upsetting. I wonder what is happening to Jarvis.”
”Is he in trouble?”
”No, he doesn't say so. But there's a new note in these.”
”Coffee,” repeated the Professor, patiently.
”For goodness' sake, father, stop shouting coffee. You are the epitome of the irritating this morning.”
”I always am until I have my coffee.”
All day long Bambi thought about Jarvis's ”Street Songs.” It was not the things themselves. They were crude enough, in spots, but it was the new sense in Jarvis that made him see and understand human suffering. She felt an irresistible impulse to take the next train and go to him. Would he be glad to see her? For the first time she wanted him, eagerly. But the impulse pa.s.sed, and weeks stretched into months. She worked steadily at the book, which grew apace. She loved every word of it. Sometimes she wondered what would become of her without that work, during this waiting time, while Jarvis was making his career. For, in her mind, she always thought of herself and her writing as a side issue of no moment.
Jarvis's work was the big, important thing in her life.
He wrote freely about his work on the other plays, asking her judgment and advice, as he had on ”Success.” She gave her best thought and closest attention to the problems he put to her, and he showed the same respect for her decisions.
The six weeks grew into two months, and no answer from the Frohman offices. He wrote her that he went in there every other day, but could get no satisfaction. They always said his play was in the hands of the readers. It had to take its turn.
He finished ”The Vision” and offered it to Winthrop Ames, of the Little Theatre. ”I am hopeful of this man. I have never seen him, but the theatre is well bred, and, to my surprise, a capable, intelligent secretary received me courteously in the office and promised a quick reading. This augurs well for the man at the head of it, I think.”
In reply to her insistence that he must come for Thanksgiving, he told her that he had made a vow that he would never come back to her until he had absolutely succeeded or hopelessly failed. ”If you knew how hard it is to keep that resolve you would be kind, and not ask me again,”
he added.
A little piqued, and yet proud, Bambi reported his decision to the Professor, and began to turn over in her busy mind a plan to carry the mountain to Mohammed, if Christmas found the wanderer still obdurate.
XVIII
Jarvis certainly had matriculated in the school of experience, and he entered in the freshman cla.s.s. He first wrote a series of articles dealing with the historical development of the drama. He took them to the Munsey offices and offered them to Mr. Davis.
”Did you intend these for _Munsey's_ Magazine?”
”Yes. I thought possibly----”
”Ever read a copy of the _Magazine_?”
”No. I think not.”
”Well, if you intend to make a business of selling stuff to magazines, young man, it would pay you to study the market. What you are trying to do is to unload coal on a sugar merchant. This stuff belongs in the _Atlantic Monthly_, or some literary magazine.”
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