“So he could be influenced by someone like you.”
“Not for long. He has the attention span of a two-yearold, as you must have noticed. And if by your statement you insinuate that he would rush off to London and assassinate King Edward at my behest, then you are sadly mistaken. Ryan likes to be comfortable. Prisons are notoriously uncomfortable. I know. I have been inside quite a number of jail cells in my life. And hanging is even more uncomfortable, so I'm told.” She looked at my worried face and laughed. “Is that what you concern yourself about? That your precious Ryan will risk his life for me? No. It will never happen. Why would he need to strike such a blow? He has his words. They are more effective as weapons than any bomb. See what happened when he wrote the play about the British royal family? The whole country was in an uproar, just over a few silly words.”
She leaned back in her chair and cradled her head in her hands. “This is what I try to get through the heads of those earnest young people who surround me wherever I go. If you want to change the world, use words—they are powerful. Blow up one tyrant and another will step forward to take his place. But write a clever piece that is published in a newspaper and the masses will read it.” She paused, almost as if she was waiting for applause. “Ryan unfortunately is completely taken up with his new play. He is choosing to waste his talent on fame and fortune.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You are quite right. I'm sorry. I should never have troubled you.”
“You still haven't asked me if I had an intimate relationship with Ryan.” Again the wicked smile. “I didn't, but it might have been very nice.”
I came away from Emma Goldman feeling quite reassured. She was right. Ryan's new love was his play. He wouldn't do anything that might jeopardize its success. If Paddy thought he had heard Ryan and someone called LC discussing something dangerous, then he had been mistaken. I had nothing to worry about at all.
It was with a lighter heart that I took the streetcar up Broadway to the Daley Theater where Ryan's play was being rehearsed. I hadn't been through this part of the city before and found it very exciting, with billboards advertising new plays and electric lights winking from theater marquees. “The Belle of New York.” “ A Doll's House, by Mr. Ibsen.” So many plays I hadn't seen, so many exciting tilings still waiting to be done. The city was like a giant banquet spread before me, and I had only yet had a chance to nibble at the first course.
The Daley Theater looked spendid from outside, with ornate pillars and an impressive set of glass front doors, but its marquee was dark and its front doors firmly locked. I went through an alley and discovered a side entrance. I opened it and found myself in a dark, narrow passageway. I could hear voices on my left and followed the sound until I could see light. I was standing in a backstage area and could just get a glimpse of the backs of several actors on the stage. No sign of Ryan, though. As I stood there, unsure what to do next, a girl came past me, wearing a paint-daubed smock and carrying a large paint pot in her hand.
“Hey, what are you doing? You shouldn't be here,” she hissed at me.
“I'm a friend of Mr. O'Hare's. He invited me to watch a rehearsal.”
“Did he? Well, he's in a foul mood today—the cast aren't word-perfect on Act Three and they open on the road in a couple of days—so I'd stay out of his way, if I were you. If you want to watch, go down there and through the pass door. That will take you to the house.”
I hadn't any idea what house she was talking about, but I followed her directions, pushed open a heavy door and found myself in the darkened theater. The only light came from the stage. In the gloom I could make out gilttrimmed balconies and the huge chandelier in the ceiling. I felt my way back along an aisle and found myself a seat at the back of the stalls, beside an ornately decorated pillar. I had never been in a theater before and was rather overawed at the magnificence around me. The seats were soft plush, and there was a Greek mural over the stage. It would have been an entertaining place to visit even if there had been no play to watch.