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MEET ME ON THE BARRICADES

him. Flashlight bulbs are set off. Cameras are levelled at him from every conceivableangle. Simpson bows again and again. . . .

A vicious rap on the music-stand splintered Tu- rano’s baton, brought the orchestra to an agonizing halt and sent Simpson slithering into the bleak at- mosphere of reality. Momentarily resentful of Tu- rano’s unwarranted intrusion into the privacy of his daydream he looked up with mild indignation and observed that the conductor was now in his most dangerous mood.

When Turano was violent in speech he was com- paratively safe. It was only when he spoke in modu- lated, excessively polite tones that he was to be feared.

The conductor was now bathed in homicidal calm.

“Gentlemen [he pronounced it gentle-a-men], I want passion from you. Do you hear? Passion! What are you all—married men?”

The bachelors tittered. But unappeased by appre- ciation of his wit, he continued:

“You are not compelled to laugh, gentlemen. Flat- tery will get you nowhere.”

He paused for a moment and wet his lips.

“Listen once more! The winds [he pronounced it

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