Griesheimer at L.L.B. Ask him to read my stuff, will you?
I'll do what I can, Ambrose assured the young man. After all, I don't know anything about your work.
Just ask them to read it: that's all I want. And thank you a thousand times, Mr. Deacon.
Harry Galen dropped a card on the table and disappeared as suddenly as he had made his entrance.
Ambrose had adjusted his tie and put on his coat while Galen had been talking to him. Now he decided that apparently the only hope of escape from annoyance was to go out. He picked up his hat and stick and started off towards Wilshire Boulevard.
Presently, passing a drug-store, he recalled that he had coughed a good deal during the night, and entered to buy some cough-drops. The sole attendant in the shop was one of the most beautiful girls Ambrose had ever seen. As he hesitantly gave his order, she stared at him so intently that instinctively he lowered his eyes and flushed. He suddenly remembered what Wilhelmina had told him.
I'm not a director, he managed to explain.
I know you're not, Mr. Deacon, but oh, haven't you a part for me in Spider Boy?
