subdued? Was it because he was hurt by his mother's treason? Perhaps a little. But Nettie knew by his expression that his mother was a secondary consideration and that Minnie's threats were effective.
To the astonishment of everyone but Nettie he walked over to the sofa and rested his hand upon Minnie's shoulder.
"Min," he said, "I ain't such a dirty stinker after all. You can take it or leave it—but I'm sorry for what I said. Damn it, I'm sorry."
It was a jolly evening after that. Michael Flynn made two trips to Sullivan's; the first time he carried one pail, the second, two.
They saved a little for Billy MacNally, but when midnight came and he hadn't shown up Pete drank it, toasting to Minnie's future.
When Minnie crawled into bed beside Nettie (Nettie was snoring in a sodden sleep) she cried a little. She didn't know whether she was happy over her success or—of course she didn't really care about Billy MacNally—she was just curious to know why he had refused to come there that evening. . . .
After three days' work at the studio set, the contacts seemed less formidable to Minnie; the road to success more difficult.
On the third day when Bacon called her up to his platform, she thought he was going to give her a chance to show what she could do. The day before she had seen Alicia Adams dance for Bacon; so she was prepared to do the only stunts she knew, "the Chink Act," and the imitation of Jeeps, the old floorwalker of the basement. She had practiced them the
