let me go out with her to lunch," said the fragile beauty, Mrs. Thaw. "She came again and again to me before I sent her to my mother, finally, and she said, 'All right.' My mother finally consented."
"Proceed."
"On the day I was to go my mother dressed me and I went with Miss , the other young lady, in a hansom, hoping we would go to the ballroom, because I wanted to see it. But we went straight down to Broadway, through Twenty-fourth street up to a dingy looking door. The young lady jumped out and asked me to follow her."
Mr. Jerome objected to the form of the narrative, and he asked: 'Did you relate all that to Mr. Thaw?'"
"Yes," said the witness. "He told me to tell him everything."
"By the way," interjected Delmas, "what was the date of that event?"
"As nearly as I can remember," with a pucker of forehead, "it was in August, 1901."
"You were then 16 years and some months old?"
"Well, now I want you to tell of your first meeting with Stanford White just as you told it to Mr. Thaw on that day," directed Delmas.
The show girl said that a chorus girl, Edna Goodrich, asked her to a luncheon party where she would meet White. She and Edna took a cab and went to the studio on West Twenty-fourth street. The wit-
