u aren't all right. You've no business, when you've only just got
started as a manager, to be rushing into an enormous production like
this. You can't afford it."

"My dear child, as I said before, women cannot understand these things.
A man in my position can always command money for a new venture."

"Do you mean to say you have found somebody silly enough to put up
money?"

"Certainly. I don't know that there is any secret about it. Your
friend, Mr. Carmyle, has taken an interest in some of my forthcoming
productions."

"What!" Sally had been disturbed before, but she was aghast now.

This was something she had never anticipated. Bruce Carmyle seemed to be
creeping into her life like an advancing tide. There appeared to be no
eluding him. Wherever she turned, there he was, and she could do nothing
but rage impotently. The situation was becoming impossible.

Fillmore misinterpreted the note of dismay in her voice.

"It's quite all right," he assured her. "He's a very rich man. Large
private means, besides his big income. Even if anything goes wrong..."

"It isn't that. It's..."

The hopelessness of explaining to Fillmore stopped Sally. And while she
was chafing at this new complication which had come to upset the orderly
routine of her life there was an outburst of voices in the other office.
Ginger's understudy seemed to be endeavouring to convince somebody that
the Big Chief was engaged and not to be intruded upon. In this he was
unsuccessful, for the door opened tempestuously and Miss Winch sailed
in.

"Fillmore, you poor nut," said Miss Winch, for though she might wrap up
her meaning somewhat obscurely in her telegraphic communications, when
it came to the spoken word she was directness itself, "stop picking
straws in your hair and listen to me. You're dippy!"

The last time Sally had seen Fillmore's fiancee, she had been impressed
by her imperturbable calm. Miss Winch, in Detroit, had seemed a girl
whom nothing could ruffle. That she had lapsed now from this serene
placidity, struck Sally as ominous. Slightly though she knew her, she
felt that it could be no ordinary happening that had so animated her
sister-in-law-to-be.

"Ah! Here you are!" said Fillmore. He had started to his feet
indignantly at the opening of the door, like a lion bearded in its den,
but calm had returned when he saw who the intruder was.

"Yes, here I am!" Miss Winch dropped despairingly into a swivel-chair,
and endeavoured to