Julie, looking very small and miserable against a cloud of pillows, was lavishly salting a plate of scrambled eggs with a flood of tears. She was so absorbed in this undertaking that she didn't notice Marc until he sat down beside her on the edge of the bed. Immediately, she threw her arms around his neck, buried her face against his lapel and proceeded to soak it through.
"Oh, Marc!" she sobbed. "I feel like such a horrible mess. I could die! I didn't know until I read the papers. Why didn't you tell me? I thought we were rich!"
With his free hand, Marc reached out and plucked the paper from between the pillows. The article was easy to find since it was still damp around the edges. It was the review of "Love's Gone Winging."
"Marc Pillsworth," it said, "the big advertising man from whom the Broadway wiseacres were unanimously predicting a swift and unconditional trip into the unholy state of bankruptcy, last night proved himself to be the same shrewd businessman who raised the Pillsworth Advertising Agency from a pup several years ago. With last night's opening of "Love's Gone Winging," a musical, starring none other than Mrs. Pillsworth, herself, our hero has turned out to be the sole owner of the season's most lush theatrical gold mine. He laughs best, it appears, who has the inside info on Julie Pillsworth's extraordinary talents.
"Mrs. Pillsworth, appearing courageously under her own name, has proved herself a musical comedienne of no mean standing. It is true, of course, that during her first scene she appeared nervous and restrained, but that can be attributed to first night jitters, an occupational malady that is easily forgivable on the occasion of an opening night. The real story, however, was told after the first scene. Mrs. Pillsworth, having apparently found her footing with the audience, hit the footlights with a surging vengeance that reacted on the paying customers like an electric shock. After that, she carried the show, almost single-handed, to a raging finish that had the boys and girls out front cheering the house down.
"A new dancer, a redhead unfortunately not listed on the program, appeared briefly to set the stage afire with a routine that did not dwell on inhibitions. The young lady's unusual exit was an effect that...."
The paper fell from Marc's hand and sprawled out on the floor. He could hardly believe his eyes. He gently lifted Julie's face away from his sodden lapel.
"But that's wonderful!" he said excitedly. "You were a sensation!"
"I know," Julie said dejectedly, blinking back the tears. "That's just the trouble."
"What!"