“I am glad you like it, Mr. Hammond,” she said, steadying her voice with difficulty.
“I do like it, I assure you.”
“It is my story, Mr. Hammond!” she exclaimed. “It is the very scenario that was stolen from me at home. He’s just changed the names of the characters and given it a different title, and spoiled some of the scenes. But a large part of it is copied word for word from my manuscript!”
“Miss Fielding!” gasped the president of the Alectrion Film Corporation.
“I am telling you the truth,” Ruth cried, rather wildly, it must be confessed, and then she broke down and wept.
“My goodness! It can’t be possible! You—you’ve let your mind dwell upon your loss so much——”
“Do you think I am crazy?” she demanded, flaring up at him, her anger drying her tears.
“Certainly not,” he returned gently; yet he looked at her oddly. “But mistakes have been made——”
“Mistakes, indeed! It is no mistake when I recognize my own work.”
“But—but how could this old man have stolen your work—and away back there at the Red Mill? I believe he has lived here on the Point for years. At least, every summer.”