"Not at all," Marbridge protested. "I've only been describing how splendid your work was in 'The Lie.' But Mr. Arlington is the original of the gentleman from Missouri: you've got to show him. However, I know you can—so that's all right."
"Oh, I hope so," Joan replied with becoming diffidence—"if I ever get a chance."
"You'll get that, never fear," Arlington observed dispassionately. "Marbridge has fixed it all up for you. It's a risk, a pretty big risk to take with an actress of your—ah—comparative inexperience, but as a rule I find it advisable to give Marbridge his head when he sets his heart on anything."
"You're awf'ly good," Joan murmured.
"Don't think it," Arlington returned in a tone of remote amiability, teetering in his chair. "I've nothing whatever to do with it, beyond engaging you and being responsible for your salary. It's all Marbridge's doing."
He examined with a perplexed air his highly polished fingernails....
"You're to have a small part in a new comedy we're putting on next September," he announced, "and at the same time you will understudy the star—Nella Cardrow in 'Mrs. Mixer.' Your salary will be sixty a week unless through some accident you're called upon to play the title rôle regularly—and accidents will happen in the best regulated theatrical enterprises. In which case you'll draw one-hundred a week for the first season. There are some details which Marbridge will explain to you—and if you'll drop in any time Monday and ask for Mr. Grissom he will have your contracts ready. And now if you'll excuse me, I've an appointment."
Consulting his watch, he rose and moved round from behind his desk. "Good day, Miss Thursday," he said with a shadow of a formal smile. "I shall see much of you, no doubt, when the rehearsals begin."
"Oh, thank you—thank you!" Joan cried.
Arlington disclaimed title to her gratitude with a weary gesture. "Don't thank me, please—thank Marbridge.... You won't be long, Vin?" he added, at the door.