“Now, is there anything else I can do for you?"
“Was there anything you—was there anything-"
“I don’t believe that I have to give you any farewell instructions before the recital. We've sent the bill to your mother, according to our arrangement. Incidentally, there’s no special charge for this publicity, although if we billed it to you at newspaper space rates—I really must ask Tommy how much that space would have been worth.”
He rose and patted her paternally.
“All you have to do now is to sing a beautiful recital,” he said. “We need a new Sembrich.”
She produced a mild laugh, which seemed to her the best answer. It might mean anything and it sounded appreciative.
“Good luck to you at the recital,” he added, opening the door for her, “and let us know if there is anything else that we can do for you. Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
Dorothy passed down to the Press Department door. She rapped at the glass.
“Come in if you like,” droned a voice from within.
Dorothy opened the door and found Tommy slouching at his desk, scanning the morning papers. He jumped up as she entered.
“Hello, Dot, old dear,” he said cordially. “I didn’t think that could be you. I’m glad it is, though.”
“I just stopped in to thank you for the wonder ful—"
“Wonderful?”
He smiled.
“It isn’t so wonderful. It’s just part of the job. I was lucky in having such a good subject.”
“Now, Tommy——”
Tommy in this mood was something new and rather agreeable. He seemed quite nice today.
[157]
