"Why did you single out King John, Miss Hartill?" she inquired politely.
Clare was demure, but her eyes twinkled.
"The decision lay with Miss Marsham," she murmured.
"Of course. But having a Cinderella on the premises—eh?"
"If you know of a glass slipper——"
"You fit it on! Exactly! Where did you discover her?"
"Starving—literally starving, in the Lower Third." Clare thawed to the congenial listener. "It was an amazing performance, wasn't it? Of course, there was nothing of the actual Arthur in it——"
Miss Hamilton nodded.
"That struck me. It was a child in trouble—not a boy. Not a girl either—but, of course, only a girl would be precocious enough to conceive and carry out the idea. If she did, that is!"
"Oh, it was original," Clare disclaimed prettily. "It had little to do with me. I had to let her go her own way."