"Happy, my ducky?" Irish Mary would say, beaming upon her.
"Perfectly," from Harrietta.
"It's time, too. Real money you're pullin' down here. And a paradise if ever there was one."
"I notice, though, that as soon as they've completed a picture they take the Overland back to New York and make dates with each other for lunch at the Claridge, like matinée girls."
Irish Mary flapped a negligent palm. "Ah, well, change is what we all want, now and then." She looked at Harrietta sharply. "You're not wantin' to go back, are ye?"
"N-no," faltered Harrietta. Then, brazenly, hotly: "Yes, yes!" ending, miserably, with: "But my contract. Six months."
"You can break it, if you're fool enough, when they've finished this picture, though why you should want to——" Irish Mary looked as belligerent as her kindly Celtic face could manage.
But it was not until the last week of the filming of Let's get a Husband that Harrietta came to her and said passionately: "I do! I do!"
"Do what?" Irish Mary asked, blankly.
"Do want to break my contract. You said I could after this picture."