“And you do not know where you can reach her in case—”
“In case what?”
“In case they detect that you are an impostor.”
“Oh, no, my friend, not an impostor!” Jeanne held up her hands in horror. “Only a twin star.”
“Or in case you fail.”
“Fail? But how could I? The movie is already—how shall I say it?—a flop.
“And I—I shall make it a grand success. I, Petite Jeanne, who has never failed. Nevair! I have willed that this so beautiful picture shall be a success!”
“Well,” Florence’s voice was deep and low, “here’s wishing you success.
“To-morrow—” She spoke again after some moments of silence. “To-morrow will tell the story. If you can carry it off to-morrow you are on your way.”
“Ah, yes!” Jeanne was drooping a little now. She was like a butterfly who has ridden the sunbeams long and far. “Ah, yes. To-morrow we shall know.”