"Yes—and I'll write you another for five thousand for supplying the punch!' he says, reaching for his pen.
A nice boy, now wasn't he?
A couple of days later Hazel, who knew nothing at all of the part I played in the sensational incident of the studio fire, got her contract from Mr. Daft. She woke me up and tossed it on my bed triumphantly. I looked sleepily at her flushed cheeks and delightfully tousled hair. She is a beautiful thing, really!
"Good for you!" I says. "I—I wish I could act!"
"I wish you could too, dear!" says Hazel jumping on the bed and smoothing my hair. "I hate to think of you moored for life to that old switchboard; you're so awfully pretty and such a darn good fellow, Gladys. But then we can't all be born with a talent for acting and I'll bet you have hidden gifts that are just as good as mine. I'll speak to Mr. Daft about you from time to time and maybe after a while I can work you in somewhere—I suppose he remembers you, all right?"
I looked at Hazel and smiled a smile that was wasted on her blissful ignorance.
"I suppose he does!" I says.
