“What is the character of the work, Mr. Henderson?”
“I am a writer of photo dramas for a leading New York moving-picture concern,” Nick glibly informed her. “I have a long contract with the firm and require the help of a competent stenographer to prepare my scenarios. The work is not difficult and will pay you well.”
“I will undertake it,” said Kate, nodding her finely poised head. “I can discontinue it if found distasteful.”
“Certainly.”
“When will you want me to begin?”
“Probably on Monday, when I will show you how I wish the work done and discuss other details with you.”
“That will be agreeable to me, Mr. Henderson,” said Kate unsuspiciously.
Nick had detected, up to that time, nothing beyond the points mentioned, but he had hit upon a ruse for evoking a self-betrayal from the woman, as may be inferred from his artful pretensions.
“I will see you here Monday morning, then,” said he, apparently about to go. But he immediately added, as if hit with an idea: “Before leaving, by the way, I will employ you to write a letter for me to my firm, whom I[Pg 17] wish to inform of my intentions. Will you take it in shorthand, or——”
“I will typewrite it from your dictation?” Miss Crandall interposed, taking a seat at one of the typewriters and deftly adjusting a sheet of blank paper. “Shall I date it from here, Mr. Henderson?”