CHAPTER XXXI
AN hour later she felt as if she had known Smitherton for a long while and could rely upon him. Then he lighted a cigar and said slowly: "I have taken all this time and said nothing useful. I did it deliberately—because what comes next will sound so cruel that I wouldn't say it if the reason wasn't sufficient. I'm going to hurt you—but only as the dentist or surgeon might hurt you. Shall I go on?"
She looked at him across the table and since cowardice had no place in her composition braced herself and nodded her acquiescence.
"You don't get much help from your brother. It's not his fault, perhaps, but it's true. You get none at all from your father. Your mother is in a condition of mental derangement. It's up to you. You've walked your feet sore seeking honest employment—and you've met with failure and affront. Now I'm coming to it and I'm going to put it plain. In this town of New York there is just one opening for you. One thing will bring you handsome returns: nurses for your mother—comfort for your father—but it will be an ordeal. You must capitalize your beauty and the publicity that attaches to your name."
Mary Burton's lovely face grew paler, and, fearing interruption, the man rushed on. "I don't mean in the way the Sunday editor suggested. I mean the stage. I eke out my revenue in Park row with some press-agent work, and I happen to know what I'm talking about. Mary Burton is one of the most advertised names in the city. To a manager it would be worth whatever it cost."
"But"—her voice faltered—"but I can't act. I've been in amateur things of course, but—"
"You don't have to know how to act." His voice rose ironically. "Few stars do—besides, I'm talking about vaudeville. The highest-priced vaudeville headliner in America boasts that she can neither act, sing nor dance."
He paused for a moment, then, as she said nothing, proceeded gravely: "Think that over, Miss Burton. New York pays for names and what New York pays for the rest of the country accepts—at more than face value. I can see to it that your contract is carefully drawn—and you needn't fear the usual unpleasant features of visiting managers. They will come to you. It's not what you would prefer—but if other things fail telephone me."