“What else have you done?”
“Nothing.”
“That your first story?”
“Yes.”
“How did you happen to write it, Mrs. Jocelyn?”
“I am looking for a career,” she began, but his surprised glance stopped her. “You see I ought to dance. That’s what the Lord intended me to do. I can dance.”
“I can imagine that.”
“But dancing would take me away from home so much, and the ‘Heavenly Twins’ need me so.”
“Twins? You haven’t twins!”
“Yes. Oh, no, not real ones, but my father and Jarvis.”
“Jarvis?”
“Jarvis is a poet and a dreamer.”
“Is Jarvis a friend?”
“Oh, no, I am married to him. They are both so helpless. My father is a mathematician. I have to take care of them both, you see.”
“You mean in a financial way?”
“My father makes a fair income, and of course Jarvis may sell his plays, but when I married him I expected to support him.”
