Читать книгу Footlights онлайн

27 страница из 42

ssss1 With a swift, hysterical laugh, a twist of her body, she was out of his arms and across the foyer.

“Come,” she called.

She opened a door at the other side. The gold flames of a log fire played upon the face of the little gray-haired woman in dusky silk who rose to greet her.

“Mother,” said Parsinova, “kiss your child and thank Mr.Kane. I think I’ve made a hit.”

Oswald Kane watched with a frown as she held out her arms adoringly to the little old woman.

For over a year the little mother had had a way of appearing in the background whenever he claimed the few sentimental hours which should have been but small acknowledgment of his new pupil’s debt to him.

ssss1

Parsinova instantly became the rage.

She gave delicious interviews in which she misapplied American slang in a way that made the press chuckle. She spoke of the tragedy of Russia. She told of her struggles there. She gave her impressions of the American theater; American art; American fashions; the energy of the American man; the vitality of the American woman.