“Thank you,” came the girl’s hasty voice.
Eris hung up the receiver of the telephone in the directors’ office at the studio, where Smull stood.
“Now will you believe me?” he demanded.
“I heard you ask if it were Mr. Annan,” she said. “I could hear perfectly well from my dressing-room.”
“I thought Flynn said it was Annan and I asked,” insisted Smull, “but it turned out to be a Herald man who wanted copy. So now if you’ll listen to me, Eris——”
“I have already tried to make you understand that I have no interest in anything you say——”
“For God’s sake, be charitable and overlook what a man says and does when he’s drunk——”
“I don’t think you were——”
“I was, I tell you! I carry it that way. I turn ugly. When I get a few highballs in me I’m a different kind of man.... Look here, Eris, if you’ll be a sport and call it off, I’ll give you my word, as long as you and I are friends, never to touch a drop of anything!”