“Cut it out, Abey!” broke in Mary. “Mr. Carpenter hasn't asked anything of you.”
“Oh, he ain't, hey? So dat's his game. Vell, he'll find maybe I can vait as long as de next feller. Ven he gits ready to talk business, he knows vere Eternal City is, I guess. Vot's de matter, Madame, you got dat old voman o' mine melted to de chair?”
“I'll see, I'll see, Meester T-S,” said Madame, hustling out of the room.
Mary came up to the great man. “See here, Abey,” she said, in a low voice, “you're making the worst mistake of your life. Apparently this man hasn't been discovered. When he is, you know what'll happen.”
“Vere doss he come from?”
“I don't know. Billy here brought him. I said he must have come out of a stained glass window in St. Bartholomew's Church.”
“Oho, ho!” said T-S.
“Anyhow, he's new, and he's too good to keep. The paper's 'll get hold of him sure. Just look at him!”
“But, Mary, can he act?”
“Act? My God, he don't have to act! He only has to look at you, and you want to fall at his feet. Go be decent to him, and find out what he wants.”