"I'm wild about frankness," he says, "and you're Miss Candid herself! I'd like you to see my latest picture, it's really a good one—plot a bit different, excellent cast and—say, why not dine with me tonight and I'll tell you all about it?"
At this the girls nearly swooned! Honestly, under the circumstances it was hard to resist the temptation to accept that invitation, in a loud voice. But thinking of Hazel, I stalled.
"I think you're giving me a run around," I says, busily manipulating the switchboard plugs. "Why should you have to ask me to eat with you? You don't mean to tell me you're friendless in this town, do you?"
Again he laughs.
"Having already devoured your beauty with my eyes," he says, bowing cutely, "I'd like your company for dessert."
"I love that," I says. "You sound like the titles from some of your own movies. Desserts are not good for you—you may find me too rich."
"Perhaps," he says. "At any rate I can make you rich! Eventually, why not now?"
"Behave!" I warn him. "Do you wish a number?"
"Why high-hat me?" he complains. "I'm harmless and I may be able to do you a lot of good. I've half a
