The director thawed ever so slightly. “Of course, my girl, I’m busy—but then I’m always busy. They run me to death here. Still, it was very kind of your friends, and of course—”
“Thank you, Mr. Henshaw.” She clasped her hands to her breast and gazed raptly into the face of her coy listener.
“Of course I’ll have to have help on the details, but it starts off kind of like this. You see I’m a Hawaiian princess—” She paused, gazing aloft.
“Yes, yes, Miss Montague—an Hawaiian princess. Go on, go on!”
“Oh, excuse me; I was thinking how I’d dress her for the last spool in the big fire scene. Well, anyway, I’m this Hawaiian princess, and my father, old King Mauna Loa, dies and leaves me twenty-one thousand volcanoes and a billiard cue—”
Mr. Henshaw blinked rapidly at this. For a moment he was dazed. “A billiard cue, did you say?” he demanded blankly.
“Yes. And every morning I have to go out and ram it down the volcanoes to see are they all right—and—”
“Tush, tush!” interrupted Mr. Henshaw scowling upon the playwright and fell again to his envelope, pretending thereafter to ignore her.
The girl seemed to be unaware that she had lost his attention. “And you see the villain is very wealthy; he owns the largest ukelele factory in the islands, and he tries to get me in his power, but he’s foiled by my fiance, a young native by the name of Herman Schwarz, who has invented a folding ukelele, so the villain gets his hired Hawaiian orchestra to shove Herman down one of the volcanoes and me down another, but I have the key around my neck, which Father put there when I was a babe and made me swear always to wear it, even in the bath-tub, so I let myself out and unlock the other one and let Herman out and the orchestra discovers us and chases us over the cliff, and then along comes my old nurse who is now running a cigar store in San Pedro and she—” Here she affected to discover that Mr. Henshaw no longer listened.
“Why, Mr. Henshaw’s gone!” she exclaimed dramatically. “Boy, boy, page Mr. Henshaw.” Mr. Henshaw remained oblivious.