“Trout.”
“Well, they seem to be darned scarce——”
“I want to ask you something,” interrupted the girl, breathlessly.
“Shoot, sister.”
“I want to know how people—how a girl——”
“Sure. I get you. I’m glad you asked me. They all ask that. You want to know how to get into pictures.”
“Yes——”
“Of course. So does every living female in the United States. That’s what sixty million women, young and old, want to know——”
He looked up, prepared to wink, but something in her flushed expression modified his jocose intention:
“Say, sister,” he drawled, “you don’t want to go into pictures.”