The gray sky,
Was overflowing with dullness.
The doorman yawned in boredom.
As he wiped away the tears that came out, he trembled and thought, "How long has it been?"
There were not many people who bought tickets.
They still had to occupy the latrine.
Even he had to be on duty for a while!
He called out weakly, "'Wrong Marriage'.
One shilling for a performance. "
Dong
A drum sound was heard.
That was the signal for the end of the day's performance.
The doorman was suddenly in high spirits. He was thinking that after work, he could go to the streets to drink and watch the enhanced version of the dance drama.
He took off the sign of 'Wrong Marriage' that had ended the performance.
He hummed a song and prepared to buy some wine to warm his body.
"Excuse me." A man dressed like a dog.
One look and one could tell that he was a capable servant of a noble stopped him.
The doorman was experienced and knowledgeable.
At a glance, he could tell that the quality of the carriage behind this guy was not vulgar.
"What can I do for you?" He cursed in his heart and quickly put on a smile.
"My master and his friend.
They want to book tickets. "
"Which one do you want?"
"'Wrong Marriage'."
"Okay." The doorman was about to get the tickets when he was suddenly stunned. He suspected that he had heard wrongly. "Which one do you want?"
"'Wrong Marriage'. Take a few more tickets. My master will have friends coming later. "
The doorman smiled apologetically. "But...
This time...
Today's performance has already ended. "
"It's over?" It was accompanied by a thick accent.
This time, it was not the servant who answered.
The owner of the carriage got down.
The man was dressed very casually.
Although he was wearing a long coat, trousers, and socks, his clothes were wrinkled from sitting in the carriage. His hair seemed to be only casually combed a few times, and his messy and thick eyebrows did not show any signs of meticulous care. His eyes were very deep, but there was no worldly gentleness. That big hawk-like nose grew in the middle of his face, making people see that this person was not easy to get along with at a glance.
He looked domineering, but he did not look like the arrogance of a noble, nor did he look like the temperament of a third-level noble gentleman who threw money around. It was more like the confidence formed by having absolute control in something.
Even his crippled right leg did not hinder his imposing manner.
A little like … just a little, like those famous craftsmen in the city with strange tempers that even the big shots had to be polite to.
The doorman thought for a moment, but he couldn't afford to be negligent when someone alighted from such a carriage. He hastily replied, "Yes, sir. This round is over. "
The man looked at the sky and frowned unhappily. "This isn't the time for an ordinary play to end."
He bluntly called out to the doorman, "Call your master over."
"Sir, my master is currently accompanying an esteemed guest and has no time to spare …"
Seeing the man frown even more, the doorman complained incessantly. He had no choice but to open the sign of "Wrong Marriage":
"If you really want to buy it, I can sell it to you. But you'll have to come back tomorrow. "
Unexpectedly, when the man took the ticket and looked at it, his face became even gloomier. "One shilling per round?"
Could it be that one shilling was too expensive? This gentleman doesn't look like a poor man, does he? Menzi thought.
The man called the servant to the side of the carriage, said a few words, and handed the ticket in.
A moment later, two more gentlemen alighted from the carriage.
The first one had a delicate appearance, but the tips of his eyebrows drooped down, and he looked slightly distressed.
When the second one came down, it seemed that the surrounding gray color was shrouded in a layer of faint glow, causing the doorman to stare blankly.
"Such a masterpiece is actually sold here for only one shilling?" Kleimont looked at the ticket handed over by Okott and frowned slightly.
Daniel took a closer look. It was indeed one shilling, and he couldn't help but be surprised. "On Bona's side, whether it is" Lady Peony "or" Wrong Marriage ", they are all hyped up to seven or eight gold in the Rose Theater. Even the Gentleman's Theater has long been promoted to one mark. Why is it here? "
Even if Abat had never been a literary style, and the prices were lower than Bona's, it shouldn't be to this extent, right?
He remembered that he had never been to Abat, and the theater here was not so cheap.
Daniel whispered a few words to his old friend, and Okott asked the doorman to open the signs of other plays. When he saw the price and the arrangement of the plays, they were all the normal three to five shillings, and his face instantly became gloomier.
Kleimont looked at the confused doorman, and said in a gentle tone, "Can I ask you something?"
Being called "you" by such a beautiful young man, who was either rich or noble at first glance, and looking straight at him with dreamy green eyes like a lake shrouded in mist, the doorman's face suddenly turned red, and he was a little tongue-tied. "You, you say … I'll tell you everything I know!"
Kleimont looked at the poster of "Wrong Marriage" on the wall. It was obvious that it had not been taken good care of and had begun to turn yellow and curl. He pointed at it, "I don't know how this play is in Abat's reviews?"
The doorman hurriedly flipped through his pockets. Under Kleimont's smile, he courteously took out a crumpled, low-quality newspaper from his pocket. He dusted it several times, and then carefully handed it to Kleimont in embarrassment. "I'm not very literate, but I've heard that there are some important people's comments about this play. Please take a look. "
Kleimont took it with a smile, and his eyes gently avoided the erotic pictures on the inferior tabloid that had been repeatedly rubbed. After a few glances, he found the key information he was looking for. He nodded and pointed it out to Okotte.
Okotte saw it at a glance.
[Play Review: Vulgar as always — Take Red Sister as an example, the vulgar and rude inferior character in a comedy.]
[Play Review: A love story between a man and a woman.]
Okotte's face became gloomier as he read ten lines at a glance. Suddenly, a cry of surprise came from afar. "Mr. Matzerat!"
A group of well-dressed and gorgeously dressed literati arrived. There were also a few other theater managers.
Charlie Beckett, who was leading the group, rubbed his hands. "I just heard that you actually came to Abat's! If you wanted to watch a play, why didn't you inform us? This theater doesn't suit your taste, we have already prepared VIP seats in other theaters … "
Okotte glanced at him. "Who are you?"
Beckett's donkey face stiffened, but he still squeezed out a smile. "Charlie Beckett. I went to Bona that year and submitted a manuscript to your mansion … "
"Oh. There were too many mediocre people who submitted to me, I can't remember. "Okotte did not give him any face at all.
Daniel was still afraid of his good friend's mouth that offended people everywhere. He pulled him and smiled at Beckett. "No need, thank you for your kindness. We just came to Abat's for fun on a whim. We also wanted to visit the place where 'Lady Peony' and 'A Wrong Marriage' were produced. We wanted to see the local theater that premiered these two plays and get to know the author. "
As soon as he finished speaking, the muscles on Charlie Beckett's face secretly twitched. The theater managers and literati behind him looked at each other, and the smiles on their faces were a little dull.
Okotte noticed this. "Why, do you know this author?"
A pair of slender hands touched his shoulders. Kleimont motioned for him to look at the bottom of the tabloid.
[Extra! Playwright Charlie Beckett joined forces with many writers to pressure the Cook Theater: Shame of the profession, comedy creators should be removed from all gentlemen's theaters!]
Charlie Beckett?
Okotte sneered. "Oh, it's my fault. Now I remember you. So you're not mediocre, but stupid. "
"You!" Charlie Beckett had been operating in Abat's for many years, and he still had some admirers. A young author stepped forward angrily. "Even if you're a great writer, chief editor of a big publishing house, you can't insult people like this!"
"You have eyes but can't see. What is it if not stupid? " Okotte hated it the most when good works were covered in dust and slandered by mediocre people. When he thought of the masterpiece that caused a sensation in Bona being slandered in Abat's and reduced to a shilling a show and no one cared about it, he was like an old craftsman who saw his best work being smashed. He was furious.
The scene was on the verge of erupting.
"Ah! Mr. Matzerat! Your presence brings light to my humble abode! " Sir James Cook rushed out to Okotte's group with a red face, followed by Sir Hawk and Sir Hawk.
Seeing that the scene was not quite right, the doorman had already slipped away to report.
"You're the boss here?" Daniel asked.
Sir James Cook nodded and smiled, completely ignoring Charlie Beckett and the others. "Please come in, please come in."
Crémont also whispered, "Okotte, let's go in first."
Okotte snorted. They looked straight ahead and introduced themselves to Sir Hawk and Sir Hawk under the guidance of Sir James Cook, and then went into the theater.
Charlie Beckett and the others were left behind. They did not know whether to enter or leave. The doorman blocked them in a strange way.
"Sorry, everyone. Unauthorized people are not allowed to enter."
The managers of the other gentlemen's theaters could not help but ask, "Charlie, didn't you say that you were friends with Mr. Okotte? What's going on now? "Why did it seem like they had offended the great writer for no reason?
Charlie Beckett's face turned red and green. Everyone began to discuss the matter at once.
At this moment, a manager came out and said a few words to the doorman. The doorman stepped forward and said indifferently,
"Everyone, my master said, please come in with us."
"Everyone, please enjoy the show for free. After all, from now on, you will no longer be able to enjoy the price of one shilling. "
*
Looking through the window, it was all gray. The gloomy sky made the street lose its color, and it was gloomy.
The wind that blew in pierced the skin, and it was icy cold.
Daiyu sighed and read the half-written manuscript. She sighed in her heart and put down the pen.
"Ah, the garden! Dog! "The voluptuous lady downstairs seemed to be complaining about something. After a while, she seemed to be carrying a broom to the garden to chase the dog away.
"Miss! Miss! "A moment later, a soft voice shouted from the corner downstairs where her window was facing.
Daiyu poked her head out and saw a dispirited and pale face with a few traces of Qingqing's purplish face. She seemed to be thinner. When she wore clothes on her body, only her belly seemed to be more prominent. Her limbs were like sticks of reeds, and the sleeves made her look even more empty.
"You … It's you?" Daiyu did not expect it to be this little nun.
The little nun raised her face and looked at her from downstairs. Her lips moved a few words.
Was she asking for help? Daiyu thought.
The little nun pursed her lips as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she did not say a word.
"Wild dog! Wild dog! "Miss Volgue's voice was getting closer.
The little nun put down the things in her hand and limped away, stumbling and running away.
"Eh? I clearly heard a dog barking. " Miss Volgue carried a broom and walked downstairs with her hands on her waist. She looked around for a while and suddenly exclaimed in surprise, "Eh, where did the flowers come from?"
Daiyu's heart skipped a beat. She saw Miss Volgue holding a bouquet of flowers in her hand.
In the gray winter, most of the plants were withered. The rest were also withered. The ground was full of broken branches and withered leaves. But this bouquet of flowers was particularly delicate and beautiful. It bloomed with tenacity in the cold wind and suddenly lit up Daiyu's dark window.
"Ding —
Ding —
Ding — "
"Hey! They're here! Who is it? "Miss Volgue muttered, threw the flowers away and went to open the door.
At the door was Sir James Cook's steward who had been here several times. His old face was full of pride and excitement, "Quick, invite Miss Anna to get on the carriage and go to the theater. 'Wrong Marriage' is a big hit!"
"What's' Wrong Marriage '?" Miss Volgue was a little confused, "Is it the dirty comedy that was mentioned in the newspaper recently? What does this have to do with Miss Anna? "
"Because I was the one who wrote it."
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