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A Damsel in Distress

Page 14

George was amazed. He had not expected to find his present view of

life shared in this quarter.

"I was just thinking myself," he said, feeling not for the first

time how different Billie was from the majority of those with whom

his profession brought him in contact, "how flat it all was. The

show business I mean, and these darned first nights, and the party

after the show which you can't sidestep. Something tells me I'm

about through."

Billie Dore nodded.

"Anybody with any sense is always about through with the show

business. I know I am. If you think I'm wedded to my art, let me

tell you I'm going to get a divorce the first chance that comes

along. It's funny about the show business. The way one drifts into

it and sticks, I mean. Take me, for example. Nature had it all

doped out for me to be the Belle of Hicks Corners. What I ought to

have done was to buy a gingham bonnet and milk cows. But I would

come to the great city and help brighten up the tired business

man."

"I didn't know you were fond of the country, Billie."

"Me? I wrote the words and music. Didn't you know I was a country

kid? My dad ran a Bide a Wee Home for flowers, and I used to know

them all by their middle names. He was a nursery gardener out in

Indiana. I tell you, when I see a rose nowadays, I shake its hand

and say: 'Well, well, Cyril, how's everything with you? And how are

Joe and Jack and Jimmy and all the rest of the boys at home?' Do

you know how I used to put in my time the first few nights I was

over here in London? I used to hang around Covent Garden with my

head back, sniffing. The boys that mess about with the flowers

there used to stub their toes on me so often that they got to look

on me as part of the scenery."

"That's where we ought to have been last night."

"We'd have had a better time. Say, George, did you see the awful

mistake on Nature's part that Babe Sinclair showed up with towards

the middle of the proceedings? You must have noticed him, because

he took up more room than any one man was entitled to. His name was

Spenser Gray."

George recalled having been introduced to a fat man of his own age

who answered to that name.

"It's a darned shame," said Billie indignantly. "Babe is only a

kid. This is the first show she's been in. And I happen to know

there's an awfully nice boy over in New York crazy to marry her.

And I'm certain this gink is giving her a raw deal. He tried to

get hold of me about a week ago, but I turned him down hard; and I

suppose he thinks Babe is easier. And it's no good talking to her;

she thinks he's wonderful. That's another kick I have against the

show business. It seems to make girls such darned chumps. Well, I

wonder how much longer Mr. Arbuckle is going to be retrieving my

mail. What ho, within there, Fatty!"

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