“Arthur, you’re tight,” said Gardener. He moved towards Surbonadier, who took a step towards him. Alleyn seized his chance and shoved Nigel through the door.
“Good-bye for the moment,” he called. “See you after the show”: — and in a second or two they were back on the stage staring at one another.
“That was pretty beastly,” said Nigel.
“Yes,” said Alleyn. “Come on.”
“The brute’s drunk,” said Nigel.
“Yes,” said Alleyn. “This way.”
They crossed the stage and made for the exit door, standing aside to let an elderly woman come in; they heard old Blair say: “ ’Evening, Miss Max.” As they went out a voice in the passage behind them called:
“Overture and beginners, please. Overture and beginners, please.”
CHAPTER III
Death of the Beaver
It’s amazing to me,” said Nigel, in the second interval, “how that fellow Surbonadier can play a part in the state he’s in. You’d never guess he was tight now, would you?”
“I think I would have known,” said Alleyn. “From where we are you can see his eyes — they don’t quite focus.”
“I call it a damn’ good performance,” said Nigel.
“Yes,” murmured Alleyn. “Yes. You’ve seen the piece before, haven’t you?”
“Reviewed it,” said Nigel, rather grandly.
“Has Surbonadier’s reading of the part altered at all?”
Nigel turned and stared at his friend. “Well,” he said slowly, “now I come to think of it I believe it has. It’s — it’s sort of more intense. I mean in that last scene with Felix, when they were alone on the stage. What is it he says to Felix? Something about getting him?”