The next three applicants were girls, who respectively giggled, glowered, and simpered. Mr. Godfrey Vandeford chose the two who glowered and simpered and got rid of the giggler by referring her telephone number to Mr. Adolph Meyers.
"That second that you sent away was the prettiest of the bunch," commented Mr. Dennis Farraday, with interest that had survived to that point with undiminished intensity.
"Not at home under that little cocked hat. That giggle was the whole bag of tricks," instructed Mr. Vandeford. "Got any men out there, Pops?" he asked through the telephone to Mr. Adolph Meyers.
Immediately there entered a debonair, very handsome, and sleek gentleman of uncertain age.
"Hello, Kent, want to support Bébé in a costume play for a hundred a week?" asked Mr. Vandeford, with not an instant's greeting in answer to that gentleman's cordial good-morning.
"In New York or on the road?" questioned Mr. Kent, with an assurance that he tried to make bold.
"To the devil if I send you there," was the answer he got straight off the bat.
"With costumes."
"Done."