‘That’s all I can get.’
‘Are you satisfied to go on playing those sort of parts for ever?
You’ll get stuck in them and the public won’t take you in anything else.
Seconds, that’s all you’ll play.
Twenty pounds a week at the outside and a great talent wasted.’
‘I’ve always thought that some day or other I should get a chance of a straight part.’
‘When?
You may have to wait ten years.
How old are you now?’
‘Twenty.’
‘What are you getting?’
‘Fifteen pounds a week.’
‘That’s a lie.
You’re getting twelve, and it’s a damned sight more than you’re worth.
You’ve got everything to learn.
Your gestures are commonplace.
You don’t know that every gesture must mean something.
You don’t know how to get an audience to look at you before you speak.
You make up too much.
With your sort of face the less make-up the better.
Wouldn’t you like to be a star?’
‘Who wouldn’t?’
‘Come to me and I’ll make you the greatest actress in England.
Are you a quick study?
You ought to be at your age.’
‘I think I can be word-perfect in any part in forty-eight hours.’
‘It’s experience you want and me to produce you.
Come to me and I’ll let you play twenty parts a year.
Ibsen, Shaw, Barker, Sudermann, Hankin, Galsworthy.
You’ve got magnetism and you don’t seem to have an idea how to use it.’
He chuckled.
‘By God, if you had, that old hag would have had you out of the play you’re in now before you could say knife.
You’ve got to take an audience by the throat and say, now, you dogs, you pay attention to me.
You’ve got to dominate them.
If you haven’t got the gift no one can give it you, but if you have you can be taught how to use it.
I tell you, you’ve got the makings of a great actress.
I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.’
‘I know I want experience.
I’d have to think it over of course.
I wouldn’t mind coming to you for a season.’
‘Go to hell.
Do you think I can make an actress of you in a season?
Do you think I’m going to work my guts out to make you give a few decent performances and then have you go away to play some twopenny-halfpenny part in a commercial play in London?
What sort of a bloody fool do you take me for?
I’ll give you a three years’ contract, I’ll give you eight pounds a week and you’ll have to work like a horse.’
‘Eight pounds a week’s absurd.
I couldn’t possibly take that.’
‘Oh yes, you could.
It’s all you’re worth and it’s all you’re going to get.’
Julia had been on the stage for three years and had learnt a good deal.