"Everybody would adore it!" Nelly Guest declared with deep conviction.
"And you could arrange it, Mr. Lontaine?"
"Easily, Mrs. Druce—that is to say, if I'm still in New York."
"What do you think, Cindy?" Jean urged. "Almost everybody is moving-picture mad. We could sell twice as many tickets on the strength of such a novelty. And it is a charity affair, you know."
"Meaning to say," Dobbin put in, "you're rather keen about it yourself."
"Of course—crazy to see myself as others see me. So is every woman—Fanny, Jean, Cindy——"
"I don't know," Lucinda demurred. "It must be a weird sensation."
"Not one you need be afraid of," Lontaine promised. "If you don't mind my saying so, you would screen wonderfully, Mrs. Druce."
"You think so, really?"
"Oh, no doubt about it, whatever. You're just the type the camera treats most kindly. If you wanted to, you could make a fortune in the cinema. No, seriously: I'm not joking."