"Hello, Miss Thursday!" said the actor genially. "Can I come in?"
He entered, cast a comprehensive glance round the poor little room, deposited his hat upon the bed and himself beside it. Leaving the door open, and murmuring some inarticulate response, Joan turned back to her one chair.
"Hope I don't intrude," Quard rattled on cheerfully. "The girl told me the Deans was out and you in, so I took a chance and said I'd come right up."
"I—I'm sorry Maizie isn't home," stammered the girl.
"I ain't." Quard's eyes looked her over with open admiration. "I didn't want to see either of 'em, really. What I wanted was a little confab with you."
"With me!"
"Surest thing you know. I wanta talk business. I don't guess you've landed anything yet?"
Joan shook her head blankly.
"Well, I got a little proposition to make you. Yunno that sketch I wrote and you liked so much the other night?"
"Yes...."