“I was surprised that you remembered me.”
“I’ve forgotten your name,” admitted Jill frankly. “But that’s nothing. I always forget names.”
“My name’s Nelly Bryant.”
“Of course. And you’re on the stage, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I’ve just got work with Goble and Cohn. … Hullo, Phil!”
A young man with a lithe figure and smooth black hair brushed straight back from his forehead had paused at the table on his way to the cashier’s desk.
“Hello, Nelly.”
“I didn’t know you lunched here.”
“Don’t often. Been rehearsing with Joe up at the Century Roof, and had a quarter of an hour to get a bite. Can I sit down?”
“Sure. This is my friend, Miss Mariner.”