low voice. While he was speaking, Mrs. Loamford summoned Dorothy to a corner of the room.
“T don’t know, Dorothy,” she said softly. ‘He seems to be honest.”
“Mr. Fleming said-——”
“For all you know, he may be in with Mr. Fleming in some way.”
“I like Mr. Maxwell. He seems to know what he’s talking about.”
(And her mother didn’t.)
“Oh, I grant you that. Probably they’re all pretty much alike in this business, anyhow.”
Maxwell's voice interrupted them.
"If you'd care to have a private conference," he suggested, "I can-"
"No!"
Mrs. Loamford and Dorothy returned to their chairs.
“I'll tell you, Mr. Maxwell,” said Mrs. Loamford. “We've decided to give this recital. We expect you to keep down the expenses as much as possible, but I want my daughter to have a really fine début. A great many important people are interested in her, and-"
“You understand, I take it, that the box-office receipts, whatever they may be, are yours? I didn’t mention that because most début recitals draw almost nothing.”
“Then how does it happen that the papers always speak of full houses?”
“It seems to be fashionable for critics who do not attend recitals to mention full houses. Very often the house may be crowded when the total receipts amount to
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