"He's in the hospital," said Susan desperately."So I've come to get a place if you can find me one.""Hospital? I'm sorry to hear that." And Mr.Blynn's tones had that accent of deep sympathy which get a man or woman without further evidence credit for being "kind-hearted whatever else he is.""Yes, he's very ill--with typhoid," said the girl."I must do something right away to help him.""That's fine--fine," said Mr.Blynn in the same effective tone.
"I see you're as sweet as you are pretty.Yes--that's fine--fine!" And the moisture was in the little eyes."Well, Ithink I can do something for you.I _must_ do something for you.
Had much experience?--Professional, I mean."
Mr.Blynn laughed at his, to Susan, mysterious joke.Susan smiled faintly in polite response.He rubbed his hands and smacked his lips, the small eyes dancing.The moisture had vanished.
"Oh, yes, I can place you, if you can do anything at all," he went on."I'd 'a' done it long ago, if Bob had let me see you.
But he was too foxy.He ought to be ashamed of himself, standing in the way of your getting on, just out of jealousy.Sing or dance--or both?""I can sing a little, I think," said Susan.
"Now, that's modest.Ever worn tights?"
Susan shook her head, a piteous look in her violet-gray eyes.
"Oh, you'll soon get used to that.And mighty well you'll look in 'em, I'll bet, eh? Where did Bob get you? And when?" Before she could answer, he went on, "Let's see, I've got a date for this evening, but I'll put it off.And she's a peach, too.So you see what a hit you've made with me.We'll have a nice little dinner at the Hotel du Rhine and talk things over.""Couldn't I go to work right away?" asked the girl.
"Sure.I'll have you put on at Schaumer's tomorrow night----" He looked shrewdly, laughingly, at her, with contracted eyelids.
"_If_ everything goes well.Before I do anything for you, I have to see what you can do for me." And he nodded and smacked his lips."Oh, we'll have a lovely little dinner!" He looked expectantly at her."You certainly are a queen! What a dainty little hand!" He reached out one of his hands--puffy as if it had been poisoned, very white, with stubby fingers.Susan reluctantly yielded her hand to his close, mushy embrace."No rings.That's a shame, petty----" He was talking as if to a baby.--"That'll have to be fixed--yes, it will, my little sweetie.My, how nice and fresh you are!" And his great nostrils, repulsively hairy within, deeply pitted without, sniffed as if over an odorous flower.
Susan drew her hand away."What will they give me?" she asked.
"How greedy it is!" he wheedled."Well, you'll get plenty--plenty.""How much?" said the girl."Is it a salary?""Of course, there's the regular salary.But that won't amount to much.You know how those things are.""How much?"
"Oh, say a dollar a night--until you make a hit.""Six dollars a week."
"Seven.This is a Sunday town.Sunday's the big day.You'll have Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday matinees, but they don't pay for them.""Seven dollars a week." And the hospital wanted ten."Couldn't I get--about fifteen--or fourteen? I think I could do on fourteen.""Rather! I was talking only of the salary.You'll make a good many times fifteen--if you play your cards right.It's true Schaumer draws only a beer crowd.But as soon as the word flies round that _you_'re there, the boys with the boodle'll flock in.
Oh, you'll wear the sparklers all right, pet."Rather slowly it was penetrating to Susan what Mr.Blynn had in mind."I'd--I'd rather take a regular salary," said she."I must have ten a week for him.I can live any old way.""Oh, come off!" cried Mr.Blynn with a wink."What's your game?
Anyhow, don't play it on me.You understand that you can't get something for nothing.It's all very well to love your friend and be true to him.But he can't expect--he'll not ask you to queer yourself.That sort of thing don't go in the profession....
Come now, I'm willing to set you on your feet, give you a good start, if you'll play fair with me--show appreciation.Will you or won't you?""You mean----" began Susan, and paused there, looking at him with grave questioning eyes.
His own eyes shifted."Yes, I mean that.I'm a business man, not a sentimentalist.I don't want love.I've got no time for it.
But when it comes to giving a girl of the right sort a square deal and a good time, why you'll find I'm as good as there is going." He reached for her hands again, his empty, flabby chin bags quivering."I want to help Bob, and I want to help you."She rose slowly, pushing her chair back.She understood now why Burlingham had kept her in the background, why his quest had been vain, why it had fretted him into mortal illness.
"I--couldn't do that," she said."I'm sorry, but I couldn't."He looked at her in a puzzled way."You belong to Bob, don't you?""No."
"You mean you're straight--a good girl?"
"Yes."
He was half inclined to believe her, so impressive was her quiet natural way, in favorable contrast to the noisy protests of women posing as virtuous."Well--if that's so--why you'd better drop out of the profession--and get away from Bob Burlingham.""Can't I have a place without--what you said?""Not as pretty a girl as you.And if they ain't pretty the public don't want 'em."Susan went to the door leading into the office."No--the other door," said Blynn hastily.He did not wish the office boy to read his defeat in Susan's countenance.He got up himself, opened the door into the hall.Susan passed out."Think it over," said he, eyes and mouth full of longing."Come round in a day or two, and we'll have another talk.""Thank you," said Susan.She felt no anger against him.She felt about him as she had about Jeb Ferguson.It was not his fault;it was simply the way life was lived--part of the general misery and horror of the established order--like marriage and the rest of it.
"I'll treat you white," urged Blynn, tenderly."I've got a soft heart--that's why I'll never get rich.Any of the others'd ask more and give less."She looked at him with an expression that haunted him for several hours."Thank you.Good-by," she said, and went down the narrow, rickety stairs--and out into the confused maze of streets full of strangers.
