“Chicago! What could I do there?”
“Make more money in a month than you can earn here in a year.”
“But how?”
“You can sing,” said Druce appraisingly. “You’re there forty ways when it comes to looks. Why they’d pay you a hundred dollars a week to sing in the cabarets.”
“Cabarets?” The girl’s interest was aroused. “What’s a cabaret?”
“A cabaret,” said Druce, “is a restaurant where ladies and gentlemen dine. A fine great hall, polished floors, rugs, palms, a lot of little tables, colored lights, flowers, silver, cut glass, perfumes, a grand orchestra—get that in your mind—and then the orchestra strikes up and you come down the aisle, right through the crowd and sing to them.”
“Oh, I’d love to do that,” said the girl.
“Why not try it?”
“I—I wouldn’t know how to begin.”
“I’ll show you how.”