Around the World With Auntie Mame Read Online Free PDF Page B

as much like me as possible.”
    â€œBut, Vera, if I’m going to wear a mask all during this—this ordeal . . .”
    â€œDon’t ask a lot of questions, de-ah. Just sit still.”
    HALF AN HOUR LATER WE EMERGED. AUNTIE MAME led the way, looking lovely in an eighteenth-century ball gown encrusted with so many rhinestones that it weighed more than she did, and a diamond mask. But the fenders of her skirt were so wide and the white wig so tall that she had to undress again to get through the door.
    â€œNevah mind, de-ah,” Vera said, looking rather incongruous in the maid’s uniform. “All your othah changes will be made in the wings.”
    Auntie Mame minced unsteadily down the dressing room stairs. Vera followed, carrying Auntie Mame’s train, her fan, her gloves, her cloak, and her muff. I came last with the Russian wolfhounds. They yelped with pleasure at being released from the tiny dressing room and lifted their legs ecstatically at every corner.
    Down below, a path was reverently cleared for the Great Star. “
Allez!
Allez!
” the stagehands yelled. “Mees Sharl.”
    One of the chorus boys thrust an autograph book and a pen into Auntie Mame’s face. She hastily wrote “Anna Q. Nillson” and trudged on.
    â€œ
Ah,
Signorina Charles
,” he said,
“grazie!”
    â€œ
Prego,
” Auntie Mame said.
    â€œYou see, Mame,” Vera said, her face discreetly lowered, “even the rest of the performers think you’re me.”
    â€œB-but, Vera,” Auntie Mame said, “what about the man I have to act with.
He’ll
know.”
    â€œNonsense, Mame. He’ll be so busy counting the house he wouldn’t know if he were playing with Sybil Thorndike. Now, up these stairs and ready for your entrance. You’re on next. Come, Patrick, and bring the dogs.”
    Out front a falsetto Polish tenor was singing something about Paree and a girl named Marie being something-something
et jolie
. Auntie Mame struggled up to the summit of a rickety wooden platform and just avoided being decapitated by a painted drop of the Winter Palace at Petrograd that was being lowered.
    â€œVera, I’m sorry but I just
can’t
,” she panted.
    â€œOh yes you can,” Vera said. “Remember, all you have to say is ‘
Oh,
mon amour
!’ Do it just the way I taught you and ham it up good and proper. You know that flamboyant French school of acting. Overplay everything. Aim for somewhere between Gertie Lawrence and Walter Hampden. They’ll love it. The French worship stars and . . .”
    The strains of a minuet drifted up to us. At the foot of a long white staircase I could see the boys and girls of the chorus all done up in powder and patches cavorting about the palace ballroom. The romantic young officer entered looking just like Octavian in
Der Rosenkavalier
. There was a fanfaronade of trumpets and the stairway was ablaze with light.
    â€œVera,” Auntie Mame quavered, “I . . .”
    â€œYou’re on, kid,” Vera said, giving her a shove. And, indeed, Auntie Mame was on.
    I could see Auntie Mame gliding down the stairs, the white wig nodding dreamily on her head. The audience burst into applause.
    â€œYou see how the audiences adore me, Patrick,” Vera said. Then she hissed, “Pssssst, Mame! Toss ’em a kiss.”
    Auntie Mame threw a kiss and the audience went wild. Somewhere from down front a raucous voice shouted, “Take it off!”
    The Empress and the romantic young officer met. They began to dance. He jabbered away quite a lot and then Auntie Mame bellowed, “
Oh,
mon amour
.” The applause was tremendous. The same voice yelled, “Take it off!” and the curtain came down. Auntie Mame swayed to the wings, where Vera snatched off everything but Auntie Mame’s girdle and brassière.
    â€œH-how was I?” Auntie Mame said.
    â€œMagnificent,” Vera said.