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A lyricist moves to New York City aspiring to make it big on Tin Pan Alley.

Page 54 of 195
Table of Contents

Act I

Paul
It’s the lyric kills it! The melody’s sure fire! Even if it don’t sell over the counter it’d get a good mechanical break.
Maxie
Brightly.
Maybe you could sell it outside.
Paul
It makes a man look like a fool, working for one house and selling your stuff to another.
He drops into a chair, discouraged.
Maxie
You mustn’t let it worry you. The next one’ll be great, and you’ll forget all about this.
Paul
What else did they say⁠—when they heard it? Anything about me?
Maxie
What could they say about you?
Paul
If I don’t deliver pretty soon they’ll let me out. I’ll be like all those fellows that come around every day with another tune. I guess this is Stevens.
The door bell sounds.
Maxie
Who?
Paul
Stevens⁠—that lyric writer.
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