The Memorial Theatre commanded a fine view of the river. Opened six years earlier, it was a big, solid, unimposing structure. The Americans were very disappointed. Having walked along streets that were filled with half-timbered Tudor houses and dripping with character, they found the stark modernity of the theatre rather incongruous. Mary Anne turned to her husband.
“Why didn’t they build it like an Elizabethan theatre?”
“I guess they had their reasons, honey,” said Cyrus.
“It’s such a letdown. The architect missed a golden opportunity. He should have designed it like the Globe playhouse.”
“The architect was a woman-Elizabeth Scott.”
“Then she should have known better,” said Mary Anne.
“Let’s not condemn it on its exterior,” he suggested. “That would be unfair. The only way to judge a theatre properly is to watch a play being performed there. Come on.”
They joined the throng that was converging on the building. The Memorial Theatre could accommodate thirteen hundred people and it seemed as if every one of them was in the lobby. It was so congested that Cyrus and his wife had difficulty getting in. Over the heads of the crowd, he saw a counter where programs were being sold.
“Stay here, honey,” he advised. “I won’t be long.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “I can’t move.”
Cyrus forced a way through the press with polite firmness and joined the queue at the counter. A familiar face materialized beside him. Rosalind Walker gave him a warm smile.
“How nice to see you again!” she said.
“Hello, Rosalind. Is it always as crowded as this?”
“One gets used to it.”
“The lobby should have been bigger.”
“That’s only one of its defects. The seats could be more comfortable, the upper balcony is too far from the stage, and-forgive my being indelicate-the ladies’ cloakroom is woefully inadequate for this number of people.”
“It’s the stage that worries me. Proscenium arch, I’m told. Poor old Will wouldn’t even know what that was. Why not try to re-create the performance conditions of his time?”
“A good question.” After chatting for a couple of minutes, they got to the counter and bought their programs. Rosalind looked around. “Where’s your wife?”
“Over by the door,” said Cyrus. “If I can get back to her.”
“Tony is out on the terrace, enjoying a cigarette.”
“Wise man. Best place to be.”
“I’m sure that he’d like to meet you. In the interval, perhaps.”
“Yes. That would be nice.”
“Where are you sitting?”
“Front stalls.”
“We’re at the back,” she said easily. “And don’t worry about the hordes. A lot of these people have actually got tickets to the balcony so they won’t be down here in the interval. People in the stalls usually make a beeline for the bar.” She moved away. “Enjoy the play.”
“Oh, I will,” he promised her. “Every moment of it.”
Mildred Conroy was a full-bodied woman in her early sixties with a romantic streak. She always took a particular pleasure in selling engagement and wedding rings. When the couple entered her jewelry shop that afternoon, she sensed the distinct possibility of a sale. The young man was clearly a person of means and the two of them were evidently in love. The woman was darting affectionate glances at him and he kept his arm around her waist.
“Can I help you?” asked Mildred with professional sweetness.
“We’d like to look at some engagement rings,” said the man.
“Of course, sir. Does the young lady have any preference?”
“Well, I rather hope it’s for me, actually.”
“Oh, David!” scolded his companion as he burst out laughing at his own joke. “That’s not what we were being asked and you know it.” She turned an apologetic smile on Mildred. “Do excuse him. Perhaps we could look at some of those in the window?”
“Of course.”
Mildred unlocked the glass doors and lifted out a display unit that held a dozen diamond engagement rings. The woman gazed at them with fascination and began to examine each in turn. When she asked for the respective prices, the man did not blench at the high cost. Mildred was encouraged. She was both furthering their romance and doing good business at the same time. While the woman was full of questions about the various stones, the man simply looked on. He was there to pay. All that he wanted was for her to be happy.
“While we’re here,” said the woman, “we may as well see them all. Could I trouble you to get the others out of the window as well?”
“Of course,” replied Mildred. “Look at the full range.”
“They’re so beautiful!”
“Just like you,” said the man into her ear.
Mildred heard the surreptitious whisper and smiled. They seemed such a happy couple. There were three more trays of rings in the window and she had to stretch in order to retrieve them. It took her a little while before all four displays were side by side on the counter. Some of them could be discounted immediately, but the woman did pick out a sapphire ring to try on. After flexing her hand, she showed the ring to the man.
“Is that the one, darling?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.” She selected a ring from the first display. “The diamond was my favorite at first but the sapphire is so gorgeous.” She smiled at Mildred. “Might I ask how much it is?”
“Money doesn’t come into this, Venetia,” he said.
“I’m interested to know.”
“They’re virtually the same price,” said Mildred. “They’re also two of the best rings in the shop. I congratulate you on your taste.”
“Venetia has excellent taste,” boasted the man. “That’s why she chose me-isn’t it, darling?”
But the young woman was too preoccupied with comparing the rings, holding them side by side, then removing one so that she could try on the other. She slipped it off her finger and gave it to Mildred.
“It’s between these two,” she decided.
“Toss a coin,” suggested the man blithely.
“David!”
“Well, we can’t take all day.”
“I’d like to think it over. What time do you close?”
“Not until five-thirty, madam,” said Mildred.
“Oh, we’ll be back long before then. David and I will pop into that Tea Shoppe just up the street. By the time we come out, I’ll have decided between diamond and sapphire.” She became anxious. “You won’t sell either of the rings while we’re away, will you?”
Mildred shook her head. “No, madam. I’ll put them aside.”
“Thank you.”
After a last look at both rings, they gave her a nod of farewell and left the shop. Mildred put the rings into a small box and unlocked a drawer under the counter. When the box was out of the way, she began to replace the trays in the front window, taking care not to nudge any of the other items on display. The last tray was the one that she had first taken out. As she picked it up, Mildred glanced at it. Her blood froze. Shorn of its most expensive ring, it still contained eleven others but it was not the number that startled her.
It was the fact that several of the rings were not the ones that had been there earlier. They had been replaced with rings that were similar in appearance but of a much lower value. Mildred had been tricked. While she was reaching into the window, the switch had been made. Her romantic streak had been a fatal distraction. She had just been robbed in broad daylight.
Cyrus Hillier had been enraptured by the performance of Troilus and Cressida and Mary Anne had been overwhelmed by the quality of the acting. When the interval came, they were in something of a daze as they made their way up the aisle towards the lobby.
“It’s wonderful!” said Cyrus. “A definitive production.”