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That isn't fair. If Marty does the part, he'll put money in your pocket, too."

"Sure she will," Farrell grinned at David.

"Besides," said David, stripping off his levis. "What would you do if Nadine walked in here, and said that Marty wouldn't go on, and you'd have to do Jackie's part. Would you?"

Farrell cocked his head to one side and grinned wide enough to show his gold fillings. "Would you?" he countered.

David didn't have to answer that, for, at that moment, Nadine Boor- man came in through the door. She was scowling fiercely. She glared at one dancer and then another until each was forced to look away, their throats suddenly dry. It was hard, David found, to swallow.

"Marty tells me what a bad time you guys gave him last night," Nadine's voice was raspy, as if she'd been doing a lot of talking. "What a bunch! After he saves the show, and gives me one of my greatest ideas ever, you guys put him through hoops." She glared at Farrell. "Well tonight, I'll have you know, we have a full house." She paused to let those words sink in. "Yes, a full house, gentlemen. And all to see Marty. But we're going to cross them up tonight." She glared anew at David Rennick. "We're going to lip-sync all the parts with the Baltimore tapes, so that the performers only have to dance and act. What's more," she'd shifted on to Ace Demanski, who glowered back at her, "your parts tonight will all be done by some- body else."

"After about thirty seconds of uncomfortable silence, David finally asked, as Nadine gloated at them, "We're all fired?"

"Perhaps," Nadine's tone was mocking. She turned and spoke to someone just outside the door. "O.K., Millie, bring them in.”

Millie, the grey-haired old woman who dressed the girls, pushed in a rack of sequinned, glittering dresses and costumes. "Take off your top hats and tails, fellers," she was grinning. "The girls need 'em in the other room."

"You mean

There was a desperate, sinking feeling at the pit of David Rennick's stomach.

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