"Yes," Charlotte said.
Hugo nodded. "She's my assistant."
They left the building, and when she was sure they were out of earshot, Charlotte said: "What do you do, strong boy, fake 'em?"
"No. I do them."
"Aw—you don't need to kid me."
"I'm not. You saw me lift him, didn't you? Well—that was nothing."
"Jeest! That I should live to see the day I got a bird like you."
Until three o'clock Hugo and Charlotte occupied their time with feverish activity. They found a small apartment not far from the sea-shore. It was clean and bright and it had windows on two sides. Its furniture was nearly new, and Charlotte, with tears in her eyes, sat in all the chairs, lay on the bed, took the egg-beater from the drawer in the kitchen table and spun it in an empty bowl. They went out together and bought a quantity and a variety of food. They ate an early luncheon and Hugo set out to gather the properties for his demonstration. At three o'clock, before a dozen men, he gave an exhibition of strength the like of which had never been seen in any museum of human abnormalities.
When he went back to his apartment, Charlotte, in a gingham dress which she had bought with part of the money he had given her, was preparing dinner. He took her on his lap. "Did you get the job?"
"Sure I did. Fifty a week and ten per cent of the gate receipts."