hit who?"

"Take it from me, honey, and remember I ain't tryin' to sing you the
'Saint's Serenade,' but take it from me, if I was startin' all over
again--way back where you are--I--I'd do the glove act over again. I
would, honey, I would, and I ain't preachin', neither."

"Honest to Gawd, Ysobel; I don't know what--"

"Ain't I told you to cut out that ingenoo with me--honest, it gets on my
nerves! Watch out, there!"

"Gee; that scart me!"

"Them are pay-as-you-exit taxi-cabs we're dodging. The chorus-girls'
sun-parlors, if you listen to the Sunday supplements and funny papers."

"The time we--came--John--was a great one for watchin' them."

"Take it from me that about all nine out of ten of us gay la-la girls
you read about, get out of 'em, is watchin'. All we know about them is
dodgin' them after the show to get home in a hurry, stick our feet in
hot water to get some of the ache out, and fall into bed too tired to
smear the cold-cream off."

"Watch out, there, Ysobel!"

"The truth about the chorus-girl would cripple the box-office and put
the feature supplements and press-agents out of business. Here we are,
Della--I got to stop off at nine just a minute, and you wait outside for
me; remember when we get up to eleven--Western circuit, silent principal
and--"

"Western circuit--Western circuit!"

The Putney Building reared nineteen white-tile, marble-facaded stories
straight up from the most expensive heart-acreage of Broadway and
stemmed the Thespian tide that rushed in from every side and surged
against its booking-offices.

A bronze elevator the size of a Harlem bedroom and crowded to its
capacity shot them upward with the breath-taking flight of a frightened
bird.

Ysobel crowded into a corner and nudged a youthful-looking old man in a
blue-and-white striped collar and too much bay-rum.

"Hello, Eddie!"

"Hello yourself, Ysobel."

"How are yuh?"

"Ain't braggin'."

"What you doin', Eddie?"

"Rehearsin' with a act."

"Musical?"

"No."

"Specialty?"

"No--er--high-class burlesque--two a day."

"Oh!"

"You workin', Ysobel?"

"Got three things danglin'--ain't signed yet. Just came in last week."

"S'long."

"S'long. Come on, Della. Watch out there, Eddie--a fellow burnt a hole
in my friend lookin' at her like that once."

A titter ran around the elevator, and the old young man writhed in his
blue-striped collar.

"'Sh-h-h, Ysobel; everybody heard you." A rosily opalescent hu