"You'll have to use both lobes of that boasted brain," she laughed. "What shall I be?"
"Herodias, beautiful wife of King Herod," said Jerry without hesitation. "We'll give you a costume that will dazzle 'em!"
"You shall paint me in it."
"Delighted."
"This has certainly been a lucky day for me. I'll call the directors in the morning, Mr. Paxton. We'll make our plans while you work out yours. Then we'll meet with you, and appoint our committees at once. Can you begin right away?"
"If I can postpone some portrait sittings. I shall do my best."
"If they are women sitters put them in the pageant, that will keep them busy. We must have you at once."
"That's an idea. Au revoir. You have given me an eventful afternoon. My thanks."
As he walked down the avenue toward his studio, Jerry's mind was in a whirl. The tap of his feet on the sidewalk made a time: "If I put this through, I've arrived. If I put this through, I've arrived." It was dusk when he climbed to his quarters and he hummed as he went. He threw open the door and rushed in. The big room was dark, save in the far corner, where a lamp was lit, with the shade off, so that an ugly glare lighted the face of the woman who sat beside it, mending socks.
"Ah, Miss Jane Judd, is that you?"