“No, no,” said Inez. “Daphne must be fairly young.”
“Well then, there are a couple of actresses—Gillie Blossom—you know her, of course—and Chick Fiennes” (she pronounced it Feens) “—she’s at the Duke’s Cabaret show now, I think.”
“What’s she like?”
“Very small—petite, she calls herself—strong American accent.”
“No good,” exclaimed Inez impatiently. “Isn’t there one with dark hair—must be attractive, voice and all.”
Neither of the girls noticed that the small door at the back of the shop had opened and that a woman dressed in black, her large chest draped with a string of huge artificial pearls, was listening to them. The proprietess’ face was hard now, but years ago it must have been beautiful.
“Nobody dark except Gillie,” said Mignonette.
“She’s no good—Ry would know her,” said Inez.
“Well, the only other good-looker I can think of is . . .”
“Miss Vassel!”