‘You’ve got the mechanics,’ he said. ‘Walk through it again by yourself before tomorrow. Then you can begin to think about the girl. Get the layout of the house into your head. Know your environment. What has she been doing all day before the play opens? What has she been thinking about? Why does she say the things she says and do the things she does? Listen to the other chaps’ lines. Come down here for five minutes and we’ll see what you think about acting.’

Martyn went down into the house. Of all her experiences during these three days at the Vulcan Theatre, she was to remember this most vividly. It was a curious interview. They sat side by side as if waiting for the rise of curtain. Their voices were deadened by the plush stalls. Jacko could be heard moving about behind the set and in some distant room, back-stage, somebody in desultory fashion hammered and sawed. At first Martyn was ill at ease, unable to dismiss or to reconcile the jumble of distracted notions that beset her. But Poole was talking about theatre and about problems of the actor. He talked well, without particular emphasis but with penetration and authority. Soon she listened with single hearing and with all her attention to what he had to say. Her nervousness and uncertainty were gone and presently she was able to speak of matters that had exercised her in her own brief experience of the stage. Their conversation was adult and fruitful. It didn’t even occur to her that they were getting on rather well together.

Jacko came out on the stage. He shielded his eyes with his hand and peered into the auditorium.

‘Adam?’ he said.

‘Hallo? What is it?’

‘It is Helena on the telephone to inquire why have you not rung her at four, the time being now five-thirty. Will you take it in the office?’

‘Good Lord!’ he ejaculated and got up. Martyn moved into the aisle to let him out.

He said: ‘All right, Miss Tarne. Work along the lines we’ve been talking about and you should be able to cope with the job. We take our understudies seriously at the Vulcan and like to feel they’re an integral part of the company. You’ll rehearse again tomorrow morning and—’ He stopped unaccountably and after a moment said hurriedly: ‘You’re all right, aren’t you? I mean you feel quite happy about this arrangement?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Very happy.’

‘Good.’ He hesitated again for a second and then said: ‘I must go,’ and was off down the aisle to the front of the house. He called out: ‘I’ll be in the office for some time, Jacko, if anyone wants me.’ A door banged. There was a long silence.

Jacko advanced to the footlights. ‘Where are you?’ he asked.

‘Here,’ said Martyn.