His question startled her. She sprang up, a spot of crimson in either cheek. Had he looked at her, the manager would certainly have noted her strange look.
“I’ll come in a minute,” she called to him in a half-stifled voice.
She laved her eyes and cheeks in cool water, removing such marks of her emotion as she could. Then she bundled up the hermit’s scenario and joined Mr. Hammond in the car.
“Did you look at this?” she asked the producer as he started the motor.
“Bless you, no! What is it? As crazy as the old codger himself?”
“Do you really think that man is crazy?” she asked sharply.
“Why, I don’t really know. Just queer perhaps. It doesn’t seem as though a sane man would live all stark alone over on that sea-beaten point.”
“He is an actor,” declared Ruth. “Your director says so.”
“At least, he does not claim to be, and they usually do, you know,” chuckled Mr. Hammond. “But about this thing——”
“You read it! Then I will tell you something,” said the girl soberly, and she refused to explain further.