His hands were exploring her once again in the car. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. The blow was scarcely dealt, when, with a bound like that of a tiger, Blueskin sprang upon him. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. “You must tell me the truth, and I will see that no harm comes to you.
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