Part 51 (1/2)
”Thank you, Brennon,” she said, without much attention, entering the car.
When she reached Blainey's office, she was forced to wait some time, Sada Quichy being in conference with the manager. _The Red Prince_ had made an enormous success, and the diva had leaped into instant popularity. Of a consequence, Blainey, who had treated her with abrupt tolerance on the night of the dress rehearsal, now accorded her the honors due to royalty. At the end of a quarter of an hour he appeared at the door, according her the favor of a personal escort, which she, comedian herself, repaid with an extra languis.h.i.+ng adieu, each sublimely indifferent to the motley audience of actors, agents, authors and musicians who a.s.sisted respectfully at this sport of the G.o.ds.
Blainey perceived Dore, and giving her the preference with a curt bob of his head, reentered his den. There was in the gesture something unusually abrupt that struck her. When she followed him into the room, this impression was reinforced by the evident atmosphere of ill-humor.
”What's the matter with you, Blainey?” she asked directly.
He turned--hostility in every movement--flinging himself back into his chair, c.o.c.king his cigar in the corner of his mouth, running his hands into the arm-pits of his vest, frowning, determined.
”See here, kid, it's no go! Don't start anything! You've worked me for a sucker once!... Thanks; I've retired from charity committees!”
”What do you mean? I don't understand!”
”Ain't you come here to get me to take back that stuffed doll you panned off on me?”
”Take back!” she cried, amazed. ”You mean to say Horning's fired?”
”Come off!” he said, grinning.
”Honest, Blainey, I didn't know! Since when?”
”Ten days. Say, she was fierce! I wouldn't trust her to carry a spear!
The next time you try to work me, kid, on the charity racket, just pick my pockets. It'll save time!”
”Horning fired!” she repeated, suddenly furnished with a clue to all that had happened.
”Clever kid!” he said, watching her appreciatively. ”You don't have to be taught!”
”Honest, Blainey, I didn't know!”
”What you come here for?”
”I came to get you to bounce her,” she said. ”That's straight!”
He gave a long delighted whistle.
”Cripes! Why, p.u.s.s.y's got claws! You don't say! What's she been up to?
Crossing the heart line?” he added, possessed always with the idea that he had divined the cause of her troubles.
”No. Tried to double-cross me with a friend--but one that counted!
However, if she's bounced, all right! No need to bother you!”
”No hurry, no hurry, kid!” he said, with profound disdain for the forty-odd clamorers in the outer purgatory. ”Don't get a chance to look you over often. Well, how's the heart?”
She laughed.
”Better!”
”What's that mean--worse?”