FROM THE LIFE
—raising her arms to draw a long breath—"I feel like a wax figure escaped from the Eden Musée."
Fritz became her personal manager, watched the men in the box-office like a prison guard, exercised her bad-tempered little Pekinese, tacked up dodgers for her in prohibited places, quarreled with her company for her, accepted summonses for bills he would not let her pay, let her scold and rage at him serenely whenever anything went wrong for which he was not responsible, and stood out across the street from the theater and enjoyed the glory of his name in electric lights over hers as his only apparent reward.
It is Fritz Hoffman who has made possible her whole later career. She will probably marry him. She will have to if he has ever sense enough to say, "I'll leave you, if you don't." And in the purely practical world in which Jane Shore has to live—the world of the theater—it would be the best thing that she could do.
