what you have learned from seeing, hearing, smelling, feeling, and including dreaming—but that's not enough without imagination. Sometimes when Pa has been on one of his nasty drunks I shake all over and hardly can keep from striking him and I think how easy it could be to let oneself go and murder—then I understand what has happened in some of those horrible cases in the newspaper. Sometimes this frightens me, but then I think that if I am going to write it may help me to understand people in many other ways."
"My goodness, I never thought of you as having such a bad temper. Here we are in the nick of time. Beman is fussy about everyone being in on first call. I want to talk some more." Lucy shed her clothes, stepped in and out of a shower, and sat making up. "That made me feel good, why don't you take one?"
"I will while you're on."
"The more I hear about art the harder it is to understand."
"I don't see why you bother. You're doing what you want to do and you're a success at it."
Cleo chipped in. "You sure is, you're the best little artist in this business."
Lucy winked at Vida in the mirror. "You're just saying that because you want my lavender cloche."
"I think you are too," said Vida, agreeing with Cleo.
Lucy looked at Vida solemnly. "Don't you be like that, because you're the only person I can talk to, except Figente. Everyone else thinks I'm just a dizzy blonde. But let me tell you something—I'm going to try and be an artist, and if I can't make it maybe I'll find out why not."
"You, and me too!" said Vida mournfully.
"Well, let's cheer up, maybe it will turn out to be not very important anyway. Don't look so glum."
"It's important for me to find a job if I'm going to stay in New York."
"That reminds me. I meant to tell you earlier. You know Tommy,, who I just got a job in the show? Well, he was working for his tuition being Ilona's secretary. He's quitting Ilona and I thought that might be a job for you. Ilona needs someone who won't leave when a dancing job turns up. I know because I asked her and it's settled."
"Miss Lucy," broke in Cleo, "a Mr. Forrest wants to know are you going to supper with him after the show?"
"Tell him yes—that my friend Miss Bertrand, who is visiting me, and I would love to come."
