"I suppose you have partners?"
"No!" Pierce's face darkened. "I'm alone—very much alone." He undertook to speak in a hollow, hopeless tone.
"Big outfit?"
"None at all. But I have enough money for my needs and—I'll probably hook up with somebody." Now there was a brave but cheerless resignation in his words.
Laure pondered for a moment; even more carefully than before she studied her companion. That the result satisfied her she made plain by saying:
"Morris wants men. I can get him to hire you. Would you like to hook up with us?"
"I don't know. It doesn't much matter. Will you have something to drink now?"
"Why should I? They don't give any percentage here. Wait! I'll see Morris and tell you what he says." Leaving Pierce, the speaker hurried to a harassed little man of Hebraic countenance who was engaged in the difficult task of chaperoning this unruly aggregation of talent. To him she said:
"I've found a man for you, Morris."
"Man?"