tled in her mind that she was to market Jarvis’s wares. She had a gift for it, a desperate courage in a crisis, that made her do anything to win her point and get what she came for. Jarvis would, no doubt, be sitting, still. He was waiting for her at the club.
“I was getting anxious about you. Did you go to a doctor?”
“Doctor?”
“For your head?”
“Oh, my head. I’d forgotten all about it. After you left, I felt so much better that I decided to go out.”
“Looking for more adventures?”
“I never look for them. They—flock to my standard. No, I took the play and stormed a manager’s office. I saw him, in spite of himself, and got him to promise to read the play to-night on the way to Buffalo.”
“Who was he?”
“Claghorn.”
“How did you get to him?”
“He ran through the big office into his private one, and was just about to pull up the drawbridge, when I sprang in after him.”
“Just tell it to me in plain English, Bambi.”
